Trials and Trips 9 of 12 in a series
by mccoylover
Summary: One more trip to Canada for Jack and Brooke. Appearances by Cutter, Rubirosa, and van Buren as well. Snippets from Driven and Political Animal.
1. Chapter 1

"Connie, I know we have an agreement, but I'm seriously beginning to wonder why your boy even promoted me."

Connie Rubirosa dropped the pile of cash from her hand back into the manila envelope in front of her, as she gave her supervisor an annoyed grimace.

"If you call Jack 'my boy' one more time I'm going to march into his office and demand a transfer," Rubirosa snapped. "No matter what the water cooler crowd may have told you, Jack was my boss. Period."

EADA Michael Cutter nodded as he turned one of the chairs in front of the modest desk around and sat beside his assistant. Although Cutter had been more than a little apprehensive about inheriting the new DA's former assistant, in the short time he had been working the cute brunette Cutter had become sure of two things: Connie Rubirosa was a damned fine attorney, as well as a straight shooter. No matter how scandalous Jack McCoy's reputation with his assistants had been in the past, the gossip that Rubirosa had been yet another conquest was just that.

"Hey, if you think I meant anything other than McCoy's your boy in the sense you're the only one around here that seems to have some insight into the what goes on in the guy's mind, I apologize," Cutter responded bleakly. "Connie, the guy's driving me crazy. If you can't help me figure out a way to get him to back off, I don't know how much longer I'm going last around here."

Rubirosa bit her lip as her face flushed with embarrassment. She hadn't meant to jump down Cutter's throat. Although she had tried to remain neutral, even she had noticed how McCoy's vow to be a 'hands on' DA had become more of a straggle hold as he tried to make the shift from prosecutor to elected official.

"Sorry, Mike," she said with a sigh. "What's he done now?"

"It's the Manning/Steele case."

"I thought you agreed that trying them together was the best solution..."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he said impatiently as he held up and hand."It was a brilliant idea and I'd be the first one to thank Jack for suggesting it. It's the closing. Connie he's had me in his office three times to review it _and_ he plans to be in the courtroom when I give it. I mean, it's like he thinks _he's_ the lead prosecutor and I'm second chairing for him. You worked with him for over year. Be straight with me, Connie. The man thinks I'm a loose cannon, doesn't he? He probably doesn't trust me..."

"Mike, it's not," she said firmly, as she moved to close the door. "Come on Mike, you knew Jack before he became DA. The whole Hang 'Em High McCoy thing..."

"I know, I know. Jack's a legend in this town. Listen when I found out I got the job, part of the thrill was knowing I was going to work closely with the legend himself. Connie, I've been in awe of McCoy since I read some of the cases he won when I was still in law school," Cutter said candidly. "But if he just wants someone to sit in his old office to fill the space while he trys the cases, maybe I need to think about going back downstairs..."

"Mike, it's not _you_," she said with more intensity than she had meant to. "It's Jack. Between adjusting to the new job and a case of the before wedding jitters..."

"I thought the wedding was off. Didn't Brooke show up at Melnick's wedding with Mike LaSalle?"

Rubirosa nervously bit her lip. The only reason she knew about McCoy's weekend plans was that she had walked in on the DA's conversation with a Justice of the Peace in Canada.

"Don't let it get around, but they're not only back together, but Jack's taking Brooke to the Falls for another try this weekend," Rubirosa said as she tapped on the envelope in front of her. "I just started hitting people up again to chip in for a wedding present. I just told everyone they were about to set a date, so keep the specifics to yourself."

"The Falls," Cutter said apprehensively as he reached for his wallet. "It's a beautiful place, but given the history it has for them, I'm kind of surprised they'd choose to go back. Listen, how much have you managed to collect so far?"

"Well, Carver is supposed to bring me fifty by the end of business and Novak said to ask her again on payday, so right now I'd say I have about three hundred in cash."

"Add another fifty to the pile," he said placing a bill on the desk.

Rubirosa smiled as she picked up the money.

"Does this mean you'll last until Jack gets this marriage business taken care of once and for all?"

"I suppose if Hang 'Em High McCoy is going to put the noose around his own neck, the least I can do is not knock the stool out from under him. Especially with closing arguments scheduled for Thursday on the Manning/Steele case."

Rubirosa let out a shower of laughter. The unexpected sound immediately brought a smile to Cutter's face.

"Gee Mike, I never took you for such a romantic," she said as she rolled her eyes. "And here I was about to ask you to help me figure out what to buy for them."

"That's so old school, Rubirosa," he teased as he pulled out his Blackberry."If you really want to get the most for your money, let me check some of the deals of the day online. I'll bet I can find you a great gift for the McCoy's and you'll have money to spare."

"Mike, there are some things that need to be done without the Net," she said skeptically.

"I'll tell you what. You give me until the end of business today. If I don't find you the perfect gift online, I'll not only take you shopping until we drop, I'll buy you dinner at Twenty One."

Rubirosa's eyes narrowed slightly as she silently weighed Cutter's proposal. The grilling she had received via the office grapevine after arriving on the tenth floor as the latest of Jack McCoy's bevy of young and attractive female assistants ha dmade her wary of being too friendly with any supervisor. The yougn attorney had taken care not to give the gossip mongers any fuel for their fire ignited by sexual innuendo when Mike Cutter had taken McCoy's place in the EADA chair.

"Or not,"Cutter added, sensing his assistants discomfort. "I just figured if I took the gift buying off your hands you'd have one less thing to do before we head over the court house at noon."

Rubirosa had worked with the computer geek long enough to know Cutter's words were sincere. Shaking her reservations away, she smiled up at Cutter.

"It_ would_ be one less thing to thing to do and frankly, I have no clue what those two need," she confessed. "They've both been married before and they've both have had their own places for years. I'm at a total loss on this one. Thanks, Mike."

"Always happy to help," he said as he moved towards the door.

"Hey Mike, wait a minute,"Rubirosa said, suddenly realizing she'd forgotten something.

Cutter turned from the door and smiled.

"No worry's Connie. The answer to your question is: If_ I_ win, the only reward I ask in return is, you talk to Jack about steering clear of the courthouse when I give my closing for the Manning/Steele case."


	2. Chapter 2

"Mike where are we at on closing arguments on the Manning/Steele case?"

Cutter bit his tongue and said a silent prayer that the eBay 'Deal of the Day' would fit the bill to ensure him winning his bet with Rubirosa, before turning to face the DA.

"The defense has one more witness to call. Barring any surprises, I'd say I'll be up Friday."

"Morning or afternoon," McCoy pressed as he motioned the younger man to follow him into his office. When McCoy heard the younger man's sigh, the DA raised an eyebrow. "Something bothering you, counselor?"

"Are you asking because you want an answer or just to intimidate a subordinate,"the EADA countered.

"If I wanted to intimidate you, when the time for closing arguments comes, I wouldn't settle for sitting at the _back_ of the courtroom," McCoy replied as he met the younger man startled glance without a blink. "You know Mike, if answering a simple question is such a problem for you, I _could_ just give the closing myself. "

Cutter shook his head while gearing up to face off with McCoy. As he opened his mouth to respond, his gaze fell on the top of the small pile of print outs that lay in the printer tray, acroos from McCoy's desk.

"Morning," the younger man grindingly admitted, as he picked up one of the copies."With any luck Connie and I will be able to present you with a guilty verdict as an early wedding gift before you head out for the weekend."

"Connie has a big mouth."

"Connie," Cutter said with feigned confusion; ready to provide cover for his assistant. "Come on Jack. I know how to read evidence…how to put the pieces together. How long have you been engaged? Anyone with half a brain can figure out why you'd be researching B&B's in the Falls. Besides, any single man can recognize the look of a guy about to walk down the aisle. You know, there _is_ a reason they call it 'taking the plunge'. "

McCoy leaned back in his chair, his intimidating scowl melting into an amused smirk.

"Spoken like a man that's never had a taste of wedded bliss."

"From what I understand, the taste can be bittersweet," Cutter countered, with equal humor. "That's why they invented the bachelor party."

"Come again?"

"You know, your buddies numb your taste buds with the sweet taste of liquor, so the next morning that taste of 'wedded bliss' you mentioned, goes down a little easier."

"I'll be sure to remind you of your words when your turn comes. And trust me, counselor, your time _will_ come," McCoy said with a knowing look in his eye.

A quick tap on the door interrupted the exchange before Cutter could respond. McCoy nodded as Rubirosa peered in, announcing that the defense attorney she and Cutter were scheduled to meet with had arrived.

"Yeah, Mike. Your time will come," the older man said softly as he watched the pair depart. "Maybe sooner than you think."


	3. Chapter 3

Jake Cohen leaned against the door frame of EADA Brooke Malinowski's office. Recognizing the tune his supervisor hummed while she reviewed the police report in front of her, Cohen felt a mixture of bemusement and amusement.

"Funny, reading Detective Morrow's reports doesn't usually inspire _me_ to hum _The Wedding Song_."

"If you have time to comment on my selection of tunes to convict by, maybe I'm not giving you enough to do, Cohen."

"Oh contraire, madam prosecutor," her best friend responded as he took as seat across from her. "One of the reasons I was lurking in your door way was to ask if I could borrow Taz for the afternoon. Leslie is stuck over in arraignments until two and I need a hand with depositions for the Brewer case."

"Done. Any other wishes I can grant before the executive meeting," she asked closing the file as she glanced at her watch.

"Wishes? No. Answers, yes. You're sure you're up to this trip to Canada on Friday and before you answer, don't think you can hand me the same drivel you handed Jack when he suggested it. Remember," he said with a leer, "you can't shut _me_ up with a kiss and a pat on the ass."

"Were that I could Cohen, were that I could," she said with a chuckle. "To answer your question, we're not going anywhere near the inn we stayed at last time. In fact we're not even staying in Niagara Falls proper. Jack found a place on the U.S. side of the border that sounds wonderful. So we'll just be in Canada for the ceremony, which is going to be about as different as it gets from the original plan."

Cohen gave her a sideways glance, waiting for her to elaborate. His smile widened as she shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

"If I tell you and you give me a shred of grief, I swear I'll have you doing night court duty for the next decade…"

"Wow, now I am curious. Is the justice of the peace performing some satanic bonding ritual?"

"Worse," she said with a sigh. "We're having a priest do the honors. We're having a church wedding."

"My God, this either proves you two _are_ soul mates or it proves Jack's putting some kind of mind control drug in your food," he said with awe. "Well, your brother must be thrilled. I remember the knock down drag out you two had when you and Sam had Reverend Montgomery perform the ceremony for you, the first time around. Just how did you two find God so suddenly?"

"It wasn't 'God' that was lost to start with, it was my faith in the guy in Rome. As for Jack…well…that's a discussion you can have with him the next time you're over for dinner. The bottom line is, we couldn't get a judge on such short notice," she explained as she began gathering the small stack of files on the edge of her desk. "The justice of the peace needed more than five days notice, as well. So that left the church. Since neither of us has had a church wedding annulment papers aren't necessary and as for the usual instruction the church requires, when Jack told the priest our story, he jumped at the chance to reclaim two wayward souls."

The sarcasm in Malinowski's voice as she made the last remark was enough to make Cohen laugh out loud.

"With that attitude, maybe you can get a two for one deal out of the man. Wedding ceremony and exorcism to expunge all those nasty anti-church demons from your being. No wonder you two don't want anyone that knows you to be present at the ceremony. When the time came for objections – "

"Humm humm. Keep going. Get it all out of your system now," she sneered. "After all the road blocks there have been to this union, I'd let the devil himself perform the ceremony. My only worry is that if the verdict in the Manning/Steele case comes down this week, not only will Jack have to deal with the political fallout, but the riot will be so bad they'll seal the city off like they did during 911."

"If that happens you can forget about Canada."

"If that happens, Jack can forget about running next term," she retorted with sudden seriousness. "If the jury convicts along racial lines, Jack's finished politically, in New York state."

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Rubirosa stared at the senior prosecutor in utter disbelief. When Cutter called her into his office, his shy smile and hushed tone immediately told her the reason she was needed. Eager to see what the new EADA had chosen for McCoy's wedding gift, Rubirosa quickly closed the door and strode to the desk to take the piece of copy paper from Cutter.

"You ordered them matching _Blackberries_?"

"Think about it Connie," Cutter explained, as he ignored the perplexed expression on her face. "Connie it's a great deal. Besides it's practical too. They're both on the run all day. Their plan's change every five minutes. With the Blackberries, not only can they IM each other no matter where they are, Jack can make dinner reservations or reschedule them with the touch of a button. Think of the fights they'll avoid when he gets tried up –"

"We can't even get Jack to keep his cell phone _on_, much less get him to remember to check his voice mail. What makes you think he'll even take a Blackberry out of the box?"

"Listen," Cutter said defensively, as he tapped the cellphone on his desk. "Jack may enjoy making fun of my 'gadget' as he calls it, but once he sees how quickly you can find whatever case law you need- "

"Can you get your money back," she asked bluntly, making no effort to hide her annoyance.

"I haven't paid for it yet," he replied solemnly."I put them on a twenty four hour hold. Since you're the one with the money; I wanted to clear it with you first. But, before you decide-"

Rubirosa mentally flipped through her calendar, impatiently trying to determine how she would find time to get to the stores _and_ still have time to help Cutter with his closing for Friday. The determined brunette shook her head vigorously, as the door facing McCoy's office opened.

"No and that's final," she said firmly as she began to pivot on her heel.

"Will discuss it later," Cutter said softly as he shifted his gaze behind her.

"You'll discuss it now," McCoy retorted as the frown he came in with deepen, while he gave Rubirosa a curious look."If there's a problem with your closing for the Manning/Steele case- "

"It's not the case," Rubirosa said as she faced the DA with her game face on. "Mike and I were about to order dinner and if I hear the words 'twice cooked pork and fried rice' again I'm going to call the health department myself and have _The Golden Dragon _closed down indefinitely . No more Chinese until next week. Period!"

McCoy gave his former assistant a confused stare, while he recalled the numerous times they had worked until midnight over that very meal. His stare moved towards Cutter, who innocently shrugged his shoulders. McCoy felt much the way he did when he caught his own daughter in a lie and didn't quite know what he was missing.

"If you two have time to argue over take out, am I to assume you're both confident the closing will ensure a guilty verdict or is this a sign you two are in so deep you you'll be ordering take out every night this week, while you try to seal up all the leaks in your case?"

For a moment the room was dead silent and thoughts ran amuck. McCoy warily wondered if he'd walked in on the begins of an attempt at an office romance; Rubirosa thinking about how to keep a good front up while at the same time wondering how she could correct Cutter's botched gift attempt. The new EADA was wishing McCoy would work on his wedding plans and not add more pressure to win a case Cutter was all ready more than a little nervous about.

"The closing will be fine once I get a little brain food," Rubirosa said, as she abruptly moved to the clothing rack across near Cutter's desk and tossed him his suit jacket. "It's your turn to buy, Mike. I'll race you to the elevator."


	4. Chapter 4

McCoy walked back into his office. He replayed the events of the last few minutes in his head, still not quite sure what to make of what he'd heard.

_"No and that's final!"_

Rubirosa's words could have meant a thousand different things. But, after working with the young ADA for the better part of a year, McCoy felt protective of her. He knew she had a rough edge. He also knew, Rubirosa used that sharp tongue to hide her own insecurities, as well as a defensive device against the men she worked with.

McCoy smiled as he thought of the first time she'd used the tactic with him. He'd started to tell her about a case related to the one they were working at the time, only to be unceremonously shot down by his new assistant curtly declaring her dislike of what she deemed 'war stories'.

At the time, he'd been taken aback by the seemingly impolite response to a simple story that, in his mind, had been a story completely on point. An equally nasty response, involving the wisdom of listening to someone who had the power to hire as well as fire, had been on the tip of his tongue when he caught something in her eyes that made him smile instead.

McCoy saw the remark for what it was when he recongized the look in her eyes as the same one he'd seen in his daughter's eyes everytime she wanted to try to get the upper hand with him...to hold her own with a man whose life experience was not only more extensive than her own...but intmidating to her as well.

McCoy suddenly realized how young his new assistant truly was and how daunting it might be for her to be regularly be expected to go toe to toe with the man old timers in the Public Defender's office still referred to as 'Hang 'Em High McCoy'.

And of course, there was that _other_ reputation he'd been saddled with.

After his affair with Claire Kincaid, any woman that had been assigned to work him took a certain amount of flake around the office. Just being McCoy's 'girl' came with the assumption, by a group of narrow minded, petty, and gossipy staff members,that the woman in question would be just another of McCoy's conquests.

Ross had laughed it off. Carmichael's icy stare ensured the first time she'd was approached with such nonsense, would be the last. Southerlyn had fun with it. The lesbian made a point of taking McCoy's arm when they got off the elevator or giving her boss a causal hand on the shoulder and then betting McCoy on how long it would be before the next rumor started. Sadly, Borgia was gone before it became an issue.

Rubirosa though…Rubirosa was an old fashioned girl with old fashioned morals and traditional dreams of a husband and children. Beneath the tough facade was a tender heart and McCoy knew it. If Mike Cutter hadn't the brains to figure out his assistant wasn't one night stand material, McCoy would have no problem sending him the message in no uncertain terms.

"A church wedding," said the woman who was gazing out his office window at the evening skyline. "Gee Jack, looks like you better get it right this time."

McCoy closed the door behind him before joining the statuesque blonde beside the window.

"Listen, it's been so long since I've been in a church, I'll be lucky if a bolt of lightning doesn't strike me dead the second I cross the thresh hold," he joked as he gave his ex wife a chaste kiss on the cheek. "You've heard from our child, I take it?"

"That's why I'm here," Elizabeth Donnelly replied, as she handed her former husband the plain white envelope in her hand. "I've never heard our daughter so stunned, yet so happy, at the same time."

McCoy looked thoughtfully at the envelope, then inquiringly at Donnelly. As their eyes met, he couldn't help but notice while the hair was shorter, the make up more skillfully applied, and the attire more expensive, the years had very little effect on the beauty and pose of the assistant he had married so many years before.

"Now don't tell me just because I'm getting married again, you've decided to ask for alimony, after all these years?"

"If it was your money I was after, I'd of had that long ago," she with the evil grin that attorney's on both sides of the aisle had come to dread. "This is a little something from the both of us. Becky tells me this is going to be an even bigger whirlwind than Danielle's wedding. You're really doing a turnaround trip over the weekend? No reception? No honeymoon?"

"Can't be helped," he explained with a sigh. "Brooke can't afford to be out of the office right now anymore than I can and neither of us wants to wait on the ceremony."

Donnelly's grin grew wider as she listened to a story that was amusingly familiar. It had taken three tries before her own marriage to Jack McCoy had become a reality. Even on the final try the weather, as well as last minute complications in the courtroom, had put a successful exchanging of vows in jeopardy.

"Did it ever cross your mind that may be you were just never meant to never marry? That maybe you were meant to live the life of a monk?"

"Now where did that bit of wisdom come from?"

"It comes from having known you long enough to see a pattern and if you want to pretend you don't know what I mean, think about what_ our_ wedding day and the term 'contempt of court' a have in common."

"Point taken," he replied with a chuckle, as he recalled the run in he had in Judge Nathan Marx's courtroom that landed him in a cell, just hours before he was scheduled to take his vows with Donnelly. "But this time, I will be safely at the back of the court room. No danger in getting myself slapped with a contempt charge in the Manning/Steele case."

"Unless the jury lets you down and you open your big mouth before the lead prosecutor has a chance to stop you," Donnelly countered smoothly as she gave her ex-husband a knowing look.

"I don't know what it is that you think you know Liz," McCoy began defensively, as he shifted his eyes from the gaze he knew only too well, "but I can assure you as DA- "

"Oh, save it for the press," Donnelly shot back while she leaned against the window sill, "or for one of the ADA's that hasn't been around as long as I have. You and I both know whose running that case, even if Mike Cutter's listed as the attorney of record. The idea of trying those two together has your name written all over it."

"You're saying you'd have done things differently?"

"I'm saying, if you're not careful, not only with the opposition have enough facts to twist by election time to make you look like an ineffective as a DA who thinks he's still a prosecutor; but you're going to alienate your senior staff to the point you won't _have_ a senior staff."

McCoy's jaw started to drop before he caught himself. His eyes narrowed as a familiar scowl replaced his look of confusion.

"If Casey Novak is still upset about the chewing out she so richly deserved a few weeks ago-"

"I'm the_ last_ person Casey would run to over a falling out with you," she countered bluntly. "First of all, she knows you're my ex-husband. Secondly, she knows I'd have given her the same lecture, if I'd still been bureau chief. She knows better than to jump to the other side of the aisle, no matter how deserving the defendant seems. The only reason I know about what she did during the Picard case is that I happened to be coming out of my chambers at the same time Walter Bradley was. He was so shocked about what had happened in his own courtroom that he let it slip Casey had all but handed the defendant a 730 exam."

McCoy nodded. He could still remember the look of stunned hurt that had crossed the SVU ADA's face as he reprimanded her for her actions in a case against an emotionally disturbed child rapist, several weeks before. While he had understood her motives in trying to help the obviously delusional Picard get the mental health treatment he needed, McCoy knew he had no choice but to sternly keep the young prosecutor focused on the goal of the DA's office: Prosecution not rehabilitation.

"Well, if we're not talking about Novak, then…?"

Donnelly walked passed him and opened the bottom desk drawer. McCoy sat on the edge of his desk and watched as his ex-wife removed a bottle of scotch from the drawer, along with two glasses, and began pouring.

"Listen, Jack," she began,, after handing him one of the two glasses as she sat back in his desk chair. "I still see enough ADA's to know everyone was not only relieved when Arthur chose you to replace him as DA instead of some career politician, they were _thrilled_. Especially the senior staff, who have already seen their share of career politicians go after the job."

"But?'

Donnelly sighed as she took a long swallow of her drink. She knew all too well how uncomfortable Jack McCoy was sitting in the deceptively comfortable leather high back behind the DA's desk. It was a chair Donnelly herself had coveted since her early years in the DA's office. Although McCoy hadn't discussed the job at length with her, Donnelly suspected the maintain reason he had accepted it was to shield the office from another interoffice upset; like the one that had occurred when academic Nora Lewin handed the reins to DA Arthur Branch, a man with clearly stated political ambition.

She knew too well how much McCoy despised the mixture of politics and prosecuting. She also knew for him to keep his hand in the game, he'd have to find a way to live with balancing the two.

McCoy set the envelope that had been in his hand onto the desk and leaned over to gently remove the glass from Donnelly's hand.

"You look awfully cozy sitting in that chair," he said solemnly. "If it hadn't been for Becky, we both know you'd be the one with her name on the door."

"I'll settle for my judgeship, thank you very much," she replied indifferently, as she propped her legs up on the desk and gave him a wide grin. "Wouldn't your father rollover in his grave if he could see us now?"

"Don't try to change the subject," he said with a chuckle as he turned his eyes away from the long, well toned legs that had always served as a pleasant distractor to him. "You think I'm hovering, don't you?"

"Smothering is a word I've heard used to describe what you're doing. And I've heard it more than once," she admitted, as she took her drink out of his hand. "Jack, everyone knows the courtroom is like a second home to you. But, you knew when you accepted the appointment; you'd have to make some changes. You can't use your senior staff to vicariously try cases."

"That's what I'm doing?"

"That's what you're doing. I saw you myself. Last week in my own courtroom when you slipped in during Novak's cross-"

"It was a tough cross-," he began defensively.

"Yes it was, which is exactly why Novak didn't need to turn around and see her boss watching every move she made."

"Part of my job is-"

"…knowing when to back off and let your staff do their jobs," she said urgently as she lowered her legs and pushed the chair close enough for her to take his hands in hers. "Jack, you have good people working under you. You and Ron Carver started out on the Executive board together. Grafferty was trained by Tracey Kibre and Novak," Donnelly said with a wicked grin. "I _dare_ you to sit there and tell me you have any doubts about Casey's ability's as a prosecutor after the number of years she was under_ my_ direction."

"Do I look like I have a death wish," he retorted with a hearty laugh. "Novak's record speaks for itself."

"And so does everybody else's. This auditing crosses and closings like you're the sentinel for truth and justice makes people nervous. They think, you think they aren't doing their jobs right. I know you miss the courtroom, but you have to remember what you are and what you aren't. Being DA means you let the lead prosecutor run the cases from start to finish, _you _have the bigger job of making sure city hall stays out of their way."

McCoy stared down at the hands that felt so reassuring in his. Hands that had lovingly bathed their only child. Hands that had rubbed the weariness from his shoulders more times than he could count. Hands that that felt so warm, so soft, that he'd woken up more times than he could count aching to feel the touch of them once more, long after the couple had divorced.

"Becky tells me you're still seeing Captain Cragen," he began, as he gave her hands a quick squeeze and an even quicker kiss.

"Yes, Jack and before you start, I want a promise."

"I wasn't going to 'start'. I was just being-"

"…evasive," she added with a smirk. "Do I need to remind you that one: You're not my father. Two: Don has been a recovering alcoholic for more than a decade. Three: We were talking about_ you_, not my social life?"

"I'm compulsive, not forgetful,"he countered defensively.

"Promise me you'll give your staff some space, starting with the Manning/Steele closing."

McCoy's eyes widened as the pieces began to fall into place. The DA knew his former assistant and his former wife had become fast friends the year Connie Rubirosa became his assistant. He also knew Rubirosa had had a motion hearing in the juvenile division the week before; the same division Judge Elizabeth Donnelly presided in.

"Liz, I've already had Anita Van Buren in here twice over this case," he said with a sigh. "She's afraid if the verdict goes south we'll have a riot the like this city hasn't seen since 911. I'm sure Connie's told you Cutter's an excellent litigator's. What she hasn't told you is he's implusive. He rides the line as if it were – "

"Humm humm," she said knowingly as she raised an eyebrow. "He's a maverick. He plays to win…gee Jack… I can see why you think you have to watch the guy like a hawk. Mike Cutter is only a carbon copy of_ you_. Just exchange a woman on your arm, for the Blackberry in his hand and you've got Jack McCoy thirty years ago!"

"There are so many flaws in that statements I don't even know where to begin to tear it apart," McCoy sputtered.

"Name one."

"I'd only been out of law school six months, thirty years ago."

Donnelly stood her head and she clicked her tongue.

"Leaving middle age kicking and screaming, are we? Fine. He's you a mere _twenty_ years ago," she countered with a chuckle. "Face it Jack. Mike Cutter makes you face your own mortality. That's the real problem here, not the way the man runs a case."

"You and I both know what will happen if that jury comes back with an acquittal for Gretchen Steele and fifteen to live for Manning."

"I do and that's why you and Van Buren better be in that courtroom when the verdict read. Van Buren's with her cell phone on speed dial to alert the Police Commission of the outcome; yours on speed dial to alert the mayor in case he needs to seal off the city," she said with sudden seriousness. "But under no circumstances should you be in that courtroom during closing arguments."

McCoy considered her words as he picked up the envelope and thoughtfully tapped it against the corner of the desk.

"I'll take your opinion under advisement," he said with a wink.

"Don't make me call the presiding judge and have you banned from the courtroom," she countered as she stood, her face only a few inches from his.

McCoy met her frosty gaze and began to chuckle at the look of stubborn defiance on her unsmiling face.

"I always found you especially sexy when you tried to intimidate me."

"Funny, I always found it easiest to resist you when you were arrogant," she said dispassionately, as she moved even closer than before and reached up to button the top button of his shirt.

"Hey, you know I can't breath – "

"Poor baby. You're DA now. You need to look the part," she said as she straightened his tie. "Besides, if you don't make that promise in the next thirty seconds, it won't be your tie that's keeping you from breathing."

"Fine."

"Fine, what?"

"Fine, I'll stay out of the damned courtroom during Mike's closing," he said with feigned gruffness, as he reached towards his neck. "Happy now?"

"No."

"No?"

"No."

"What_ more _do you want?"

"Are you going to play with it or open it?"

"What?"

"_That_," Donnelly said as she pointed accusingly at the envelope in his hand.

"Is it set to explode if you don't get your way," he said as he loosened his tie.

"Open it and find out."

"I thought this was for Brooke and myself. Shouldn't I open when I see her tonight?"

Donnelly shook her head and smiled.

"Actually, I'd rather you opened it just in case Becky and I over stepped. When she told me you two hadn't planned on a honeymoon I did a little research," she explained with uncharacteristic nervousness as he opened the envelope. "Given everything you two have been through, it just doesn't seem right that you two won't have any time to yourselves. I remembered Becky telling me about the fishing trip the three of you took so…"

"Oh Liz, this is great," McCoy said as he reached to hug her. "Brooke will love it. A weekend in the Fly Fishing capital of the world?"

"Now when you say it like, that it sounds like the most unromantic place in the world," Donnelly said impatiently as she pushed him away and took the brochure from his hand. "We booked you two the cabin closest to the lake and it has a fire place. It's a little rustic, I know, but Becky said you all had such a great time when you three when fly fishing last summer…"

"Liz, it's wonderful," he said as he gave her another hug. "Wonderful and very thoughtful. I know Brooke will be touched."

"Well if she's not, just call the travel agent and you can exchange it for another package, "she said candidly.

When her daughter had suggested the two of them planning a surprise getaway for McCoy and his soon to be new wife, the irony of the ex wife planning the current wife's honeymoon had not been lost on the first Mrs. McCoy.

"I'll keep that in mind, but I doubt it will be a problem. Especially when Brooke's finds out Becky had a hand in planning it. You know, in spite of that whole scene at Danielle's wedding, Brooke has a real soft spot for our daughter."

"Well you know it goes both ways," Donnelly said with a sigh. "I can't think of anyone else that who have gotten away with slapping Rebecca and not receiving a punch in the nose for her trouble. The nice thing about this place is Roscoe is less than three hours from Manhattan, so you won't spend half day on the highway. We booked you for the next three day weekend, which is Memorial Day so …"

"You always were a great organizer. When your turn comes, don't think I won't return the favor."

Donnelly could feel the rush of heat on her cheeks as she looked away, pretending to look for her purse. In the time that she and the SVU commander had been seeing each other, Donnelly had begun to feel things she hadn't even thought about since her divorce from Jack McCoy.

"Listen, it's almost eight," she said as she grabbed the handbag off the chair nearest the door. "I was supposed to meet Jamie Ross at Clancy's fifteen minutes ago. Call me when you two get back and Don and I can take you both out to celebrate."

"Let me walk you to the elevator," he said as he followed her through the doorway. As he fell into step with her, McCoy took a causal glance at the office across from him and suddenly stopped. "You said it's almost eight?"

"It's 7:48 exactly," Donnelly replied as she followed his gaze towards Mike Cutter's deserted office. "Now Jack, remember your promised…"

"I promised not to show up in court," he retorted. "I didn't promise to sit back and let Cutter give an impromptu closing three days from now."


	5. Chapter 5

"You know there's going to be hell to pay tomorrow morning," Michael Cutter warned as he looked at the woman on the massage table next to him. "I'll bet Jack's standing in my office right now, probably ready to rewrite my closing for the Manning/Steele trial."

"Which is why a gift certificate to the Red Door for a day of pampering is the_ perfect _gift," Rubirosa replied; her eyes closed while the masseuse began to rub her shoulders. "If an hour of this doesn't get Jack off your back, I don't know what will."

Cutter sighed and thought about the feel of the warm oil on his skin. After debating for an hour and a half over the pros and cons of Blackberry's verses a half a dozen other gift choices Rubirosa had found, as the pair frantically perused the various shops of the Westside Galleria, the pair were about to call it a night when Rubirosa spotted the newest addition to the posh mall.

The Red Door West was having a fifteen minute free trial of their Swedish massage, as a part of their opening week festivities. They also had their full day spa package on sale as a two for one deals.

Rubirosa's eyes lit up, Cutter's eyes rolled.

As a guy, Cutter figured Jack McCoy needed day at the spa about as much as he needed a second head. When his assistant demanded to know if he'd ever even_ had_ a professional massage, he had admit he had not. Armed with the reasoning of without trying it, Cutter had no right to nix the massage idea, the ADA had managed to talk the EADA into the fifteen minute freebie.

Rubirosa grinned as she heard Cutter's breathing become deep and steady.

"Admit it Mike, all that tension just melts away with a massage."

Cutter sighed as he opened his eyes and met Rubirosa triumphant grin. He didn't know which surprised him more: How at ease he had become in such a short time with a stranger's hands roaming over his body or the fact he was laying less than half a foot away from a sheet clad Connie Rubirosa.

Cutter had been involved in his share of office romances in the days that preceded his move to Major Felonies. Usually, it had been a file clerk or a secretary that had caught his eye. He knew the dangers in getting involved with an assistant or someone one he worked closely with. The dangers not only in the distraction factor, but the in the fallout, should the relationship go south.

Only once had he allowed himself to get involved with another attorney.

"Come on Mike, admit it. You're loving every minute of this."

Cutter's eyes twinkled with humor as he contemplated a response.

"I mean, the massage," Rubirosa said self-consciously.

In her zeal to be able to check buying McCoy's wedding present off her to do list, Rubirosa hadn't given any thought to the somewhat compromising position she had placed herself in. When Rubirosa had practically demanded Cutter join her for the free trial, she hadn't stopped to think about the fact she would be an arms length away from Cutter a la naturale.

Cutter bit back his playful response when he saw his assistant uncomfortably begin to hug the sheet to her slender frame. While he'd been surprised when Rubirosa had so forcefully pressed him to try the massage, Cutter had never had a doubt the reasons were practical, not a form of flirtation or innuendo.

"It looks like I owe you that dinner at Twenty One," he said simply, as the masseuse helped him slip on the white terry cloth robe in she held. "You were right. Jack and Brooke will love this."

"You don't owe me anything Mike. You bought me dinner all ready tonight," she said with forced casualness.

"Come on Connie," Cutter said reassuringly. "I know I don't 'owe' you, but a hot dog on a stick and a lemon aide? You let me do more than that when we order take out at the office. Listen, I'm glad you talked me into my first massage. Plus, it's a great gift. You have to let me return the favor. If not tonight, maybe the night we win the Manning/ Steele case?"


	6. Chapter 6

"Come on Jack, this isn't Becky and some guy from the wrong side of town," Brooke Malinowski said with a sigh as she watched her lover continue to pace in front of their bed.

"They close in less than seventy two hours," McCoy countered. "Connie's a perfectionist. There's no way she just took off for the night on her own-"

"Well your wearing a hole in the carpet isn't going to bring her back to her second home any faster, Dad," Malinowski shot back as she patted the place beside her and began scanning the gift certificate in her hand. "Come to bed and maybe we can try nude fly fishing when we use this."

"Fine," he said irritably as he removed his bathrobe and slipped in beside her. "Cutter and that damned gadget. You know I left both of them messages and neither one of them as called – "

"Did either phone ring more than once or did they go right to voice mail?"

"One ring, why? What difference-"

"They probably had their phones off and haven't checked their messages yet."

"I didn't think Cutter knew _how_ to turn that thing off."

"Oh…," Malinowski began with a knowing laugh. "Um, Jack. Did_ you_ think to play back_ your_ voice mail?"

"Why would I? I'm not deaf...not yet...anyway. My phone's been on all day. If they called I'd hear the phone ring."

Malinowski shook her head and tried not to smile at McCoy's 'I've finally got the hang of this cellphone stuff' expression.

"Ah, you had a meeting with the mayor today, right? Don't you usually put you phone on 'silent' for those meetings?"

"Well, yes."

"Do you _remember_ turning the ringer back on after the meeting?"

"Damn it," he said under his breath.

Malinowski covered her mouth to supress her laughter, as McCoy threw back the covers and headed towards his discarded suit jacket.

She watched her lover become increasingly agitated, as McCoy went through the steps to access his voice mail, and thought about his relationship with the young ADA. Although Malinowski was well aware of McCoy's reputation with his assistants, she had taken one look at the interaction between Jack McCoy and Connie Rubirosa and known what _wasn't_ there.

McCoy's protectiveness towards his former assistant was as obvious as Rubirosa's own desire to hide her own admiration of the legendary prosecutor with often awkward, seemingly curt gestures and comments. It had been clear early on to Malinowski the younger woman was determined to hold her own with men nearly three times her age and was grappling with the right strategies.

It was equally clear McCoy's new EADA was also trying to find away to make his own way to stand out of the shadow of the legend across the hall.

"Well?"

"Apparently they decided to have a 'working dinner'," McCoy said with a grimace as he returned to bed. "At least that's the story Mike's sticking to. As if I haven't had my share if 'working dinners'…as if I don't know exactly what that phrase implies when-"

"I love you," she said with a soft laugh as she kissed him full on the lips.

"I love you too, but that has nothing to do with- "

"Either you let this go until morning or I'm going to pick up my own cell phone and rat you out to your ex-wife. Didn't you tell me no more than a half hour ago, you promised Liz you'd butt out and let Cutter and Rubirosa run this case without interference?"

"As my fiancée, aren't you automatically supposed to be on _my_ side," McCoy countered, as he took the certificate from her hand. "Seriously, are you really all right with this trip? Liz made it clear- "

"First of all, I'm _always_ on your side," she said as she ran her hands over his tee shirt clad back. "Second of all, if you can live with the fact I went to Roscoe while I was married to Sam, I have no problem going there with you, for a romantic weekend. But I do think we should consider it a getaway, as opposed to a honeymoon."

"Agreed. Maybe in the summer we can both take some time off and have a proper honeymoon?"

"First a proper wedding now a proper honeymoon," Malinowski joked as she snuggled against him. "What happened to that bad boy with a motorcycle I fell in love with?"

McCoy laughed softly as his hands slipped under her night shirt.

"I could answer that by asking what happened to that deceptively aloof widow woman that let me chase her long enough to let me catch her?"

"You've been talking to your friend in London again," she sputtered as she silently recalled her conversation with McCoy's best friend from law school, Jeff Collins. "The next time you talk to him, remind him that what was _said_ in Canada is supposed to _stay_ in Canada."

"I thought that logic only applied to Las Vegas. Besides, you can remind him yourself," McCoy countered as his fingers continued to caress her hardened nipples. "Jeff suggested we use his summer house in England when we find the time for a real honeymoon."

"Humm….good idea," she whispered as she closed her eyes and slipped a hand inside his shorts.

"Jeff's suggestion or…?"

"Both," she whispered before falling back on her pillow as her fingers ran over his shaft. "God Jack…have you ever considered…?"

McCoy continued to kneed her breast with one hand while the other traveled over and then inside her panties.

"Considered," he repeated as his breathing grew shallow.

"What if…,"she began as she lifted her backside to allow McCoy to slip off the barrier between his hands and her softness. "Things are so good…_this_ is so good…"

"Yes…yes it is," he said softly as he continued to slide his fingers back and forth over the warmth between her legs. "So very good…"

"Jack…," she began only to find herself silenced as his lips pressed against hers and his tongue found its way passed her lips.

Malinowski moaned with pleasure as she felt his hand on her ass, caressing, and then cupping her cheek as he drew her closer.

"Jack…"

"God you're beautiful," he whispered his voice full of admiration, as he smiled down at her while he used his legs to open hers.

As McCoy entered her, the worries of the day seemed to be washed away by the feel of her body and the wave of desire he felt as her body pressed him further inside her. McCoy closed his eyes and for what a while, thoughts of the Manning/Steele case, his staff, his ex-wife all seemed to vanish as he called out his lover's name.


	7. Chapter 7

McCoy was still pondering his fiancées words from the night before, when he pressed the button numbered 'ten' and the elevator doors closed. He didn't know if it was his own mortality or the fact he was about to make yet another major life change or if he was simply preoccupied with the glory days of his career due to the pending verdict in the Manning/Steele case, but Jack McCoy couldn't seem to keep his thoughts focused on the present.

His mind harkened back to his early days in the DA's office. Back to the day the first Mrs. Jack McCoy walked into his office, back to the first cases he'd won after being promoted to major felonies, back to the day Claire Kincaid had walked into his office and into his heart…

Of all the loves in his life, Claire stood out as the one that invoked the most regret. Although his mind told him the odds of the romance lasting had been even at best… give the age difference, hence the difference in life experience, hence the inevitable battle over children, career, in short, the future…given all of that, his heart still asked the question every now and then; what if they'd lasted? What if she'd lived? What if…

After the elevator door opened, McCoy shook his head impatiently and began down the hall he had walked for the better part of his adult life. He found comfort in the stillness, the calm before the storm, in an office that would become a whirlwind of activity in a few short hours. McCoy had opted to get up when Malinowski's alarm had gone off at five in hopes of finishing more of the paperwork that sat in his in tray before the crisis of the day forced him to abandon the effort once more.

Distracted and weary, McCoy reached for the handle without a second thought. It wasn't until he flipped the light switch that he realized his mistake.

God, every time he saw it, his hatred of it grew. Why the building maintenance supervisor had _insisted_ on having that beautiful wood painted over with that God awful white, was beyond him. All the years, all the memories…it was as if they'd painted over his life with every stroke they gave the walls of his former office.

McCoy shook his head once more, as he moved towards the white board which was filled with notes in a code only Mike Cutter could decipher.

"I can remember when we settled for chalk," he said to himself as turned from the board and his eyes fell on the rack of hastily hung suits and ties. "Well, at least there's one thing in this room that's stood the test of time."

With a soft laugh, he leaned against the board and thought about the times he'd swung the door across frpm the rack open; continuing a usually heated debate, as he exchanged his office attire for street wear.

The remembered Donnelly's raised eyebrow the first time he did in front of her, that look that said 'Just because I won't say it, don't think I don't know exactly what you're doing, Jack McCoy'…Kincaid's look of indifference despite of the pink glow from her cheeks… twenty years ago…he could only image how his current fiancée would have reacted had fate brought them together as assistant and supervisor all those years ago…

"Jack?"

McCoy swung around with a start, nearly dropping the helmet and satchel he held. EADA Michael Cutter eyed his boss with obvious surprise, as well a dash of suspicion. The young man had seen McCoy in his street clothes only a handful of times. He still found himself amazed at the contrast between Jack McCoy 'suit' and Jack McCoy 'Evil Kievel wannabe'. He had to admit Jack McCoy could pull off the rakish biker guy look, even with his graying locks, better than most men Cutter's age.

"Jack, my assistant didn't say anything about an early meeting," Cutter began, as he added his jacket the collection on the rack and picked up a tie. "It's not even seven yet- "

"Relax Mike. No meeting, I just dropped Brooke at Grand Central and figured I'd come in early and catch up on some paperwork," McCoy replied as he gave the younger man a penetrating scare. "I assume your 'working dinner' was everything you hoped it would be?"

"My wh-," Cutter began, taken off guard.

"You had a working dinner with Connie. At least that's what you said when you got around to returning my call last night."

"Actually, dinner turned into hot dogs and lemonade," Cutter said knowing the most believable lie often start with a solid foundation of truth. "Connie had an important errand to run, so we walked and talked through some ideas she had on the closing. I came back here afterwards and printed the notes I'd taken on the Blackberry," he continued as he shifted through the pages on his desk. "You know Jack, those Blackberry's really _are_ lifesavers. You really should consider getting one. Not only can you write a closing while you're walking around the park or a mall, theoretically you could write while you were getting a massage and –"

"Theoretically," McCoy countered as he blindly scanned the page Cutter handed to him. "I've been had enough assistants over the course of my career to know that Connie is about as far from the 'working dinner' kind as night is from day. Theoretically, if she utters the words 'sexual harassment' and your name in the same breath you'll find yourself out of this office before in the end of business- "

The younger man abruptly gave up the battle he'd been losing between tying his tie and trying to follow McCoy's increasingly menacing words.

"Why would Connie…why would you think," Cutter started with wide eyes and an exasperated tone that slowly changed to a tone of amusement, as he began to connect the dots. "Come on Jack, I know you have a reputation of riding the line…and not just in the courtroom…but I'm not you. Connie and I-"

"Excuse me," McCoy responded with an intimidating scowl. "First of all_ I've_ never been named in a harassment suit of any kind. Second of all, we weren't discussing _my_ reputation, we were discussing what very quickly could become the end of_ your_ career in this office if I find out you are having an inappropriate relationship with a co-worker that could compromise-"

"I can't believe I'm hearing this from _you_," Cutter shot back incredulously, as the older man a look of equal defiance. "If you think I'm going to discuss my relationship with Connie or anyone else with you, you're in for a rude awakening and if you want to maintain that pristine record of not being slapped with a harassment suit, you better back off Jack or you'll be looking at one with my name on it."

"Fine," McCoy retorted indifferently. "Part of my job as District Attorney is to ensure this office maintains more than just the appearance of professionalism. _All _members of my staff should feel comfortable in their work environment. I won't knowingly give any member of this staff grounds for a hostile workplace suit much less- "

"Damn it Jack, from the minute I set foot in this office the environment has been hostile," Cutter snapped back without hesitation. "Listen, if you're having second thoughts about this promotion…if you'd rather have Carver or some other Bureau Chef in this office I wish you'd just clear the air instead of using Connie as an excuse to try to force me out."

McCoy's eyes widened as he met the other man's knowing gaze, as the impact of Cutter's words hit him. McCoy knew he'd been on edge since taking the spot across the hall. He'd even caught himself once or twice being overly critical of the new EADA, but until that moment it had never occurred to him that Mike Cutter would question McCoy's decision in making him his lead prosecutor.

"Mike, it's not a question of whether I want you-,"McCoy began, his eyes momentarily fixed on the newly laid flooring in a moment of shame.

"Come on Jack, be honest," the younger man interjected as he handed McCoy his final draft of the Manning/Steele closing. "We both this case is too important for any kind of screw ups. That's why you'd give your right arm to deliver the closing yourself. Obviously you don't trust me to- "

"Mike, I never said I didn't- "

"If you don't trust me with your former assistant, how can you trust me to close a case that could blow this city apart? Your office. Your choice," the younger man said as he pressed the pages into McCoy's hand before striding out the door.


	8. Chapter 8

Before McCoy could react, Cutter was out the door. McCoy could hear the greeting his former assistant gave the departing EADA, before she entered Cutter's office. Connie Rubirosa stood in the doorway staring at the back of her unresponsive supervisor, she turned her confused gaze on McCoy.

"Jack, what's up with Mike," she asked as her eyes fell on the paper in McCoy's hands. "Did you two finish the closing without me? Mike said he wanted to run it by you, but I thought he and I were going to iron out the rough spots before he brought to you."

"You mean you didn't iron out the rough spots last night during your working dinner?"

Rubirosa made a face as she rolled her eyes, before responding. Although she only worked as McCoy's assistant for a short time, Rubirosa knew what it meant when the seasoned prosecutor's eyes remained fixed on the floor for more than a few seconds.

"I'd hardly call a hot dog on a stick a 'working dinner' but, we did get a lot done. Why? Are you upset because we didn't finish it? Jack, all we need is another hour or so and we'll have –"

McCoy impatiently shook his head as he finally met her eyes.

"I'm sure the closing will be fine. I'm more concerned with…,"he began; his voice faltering as he tried to think of a way to say what he felt compelled to say, without coming across as intrusive.

"Jack, what is it," she asked with growing concern, as she stepped closer to the DA in an effort to more clearly read the thoughts his expression fought to conceal. "Did something happen? Did defense counsel add someone to the witness list that we hadn't planned on?"

"This isn't about the case, "McCoy said with a sigh, feeling more like a father than a supervisor. "Connie, you know I've always had nothing but respect for you…as attorney…as well as in every other way. That's why … when you first started working as my assistant…you made it clear you didn't like war stories and you were here to work not to socialize...remember?"

Rubirosa gave him one of her rare smiles. It was an act that softened her eyes and make her look even younger than she really was. It was a look that made McCoy realize why he felt such a misplaced sense of over protectiveness when it came to this young woman.

"I remember," she said with embarrassed amusement.

Rubirosa looked around the office that was so different from the night she and McCoy had had the conversation he was referring to. Even though the setting had changed, she could remember her words as if they had been said the day before. As intimidated as she'd been by the prospect of working closely with not only the legendary prosecutor, but Arthur Branch as well, Rubirosa had tried to hide her insecurities with a false sense of bravado.

The words and tone she'd used the first time then EADA Jack McCoy had offered his first piece of well meaning advice still uncomfortably rang in her ears.

"I remember," she said again as she leaned against Cutter's desk, crossing her legs in front of her. "If you're afraid I've been equally rude to Mike, rest assured, I have learned my lesson."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning, hopefully I've learned how to maintain a professional distance without acting like a spoiled brat," she frankly. "Working with you taught me that being professional doesn't mean you can't be friendly."

"As long as friendly doesn't turn into presumptuous," McCoy countered.

"Presumptous," Rubirosa repeated, once again, clearly mystified. "I don't understand. Did I do something…say something… wrong? Is Mike upset with something I did? "

"No," McCoy snapped with an impatience sigh. "I heard about your working dinner last night and I was concerned. I thought …I wanted to make sure that Cutter hadn't…wasn't…"

"Jack what exactly are you trying to say?"

McCoy found his eyes once again on the floor as he listened to himself. He felt increasingly foolish as Rubirosa continued to stare uncomprehendingly at him. He also felt frustrated at his own inability to simply ask her straight out if anything improper had happened the night before.

"Damn it Connie, did anything 'inappropriate' happen on this dinner date with Cutter?"

"Dinner date," she repeated incredulously. As she shook her head, she suddenly paused as she resisted the urge to explain, realizing if she told McCoy the whole truth about the previous evening, she would have to tell him about his wedding gift. Telling him about the gift would in turn would spoil the surprise.

Rubirosa licked her lips as she weighed her options.

"If you're asking me whether Mike tried to get me into a compromising position, I'd have to say 'no'. Actually Jack, I was the one that tried to get Mike out of _his _clothes last night."

888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

By the time Connie Rubirosa dashed through the gate that separated the gallery form the attorney's, the bailff had asked the spectators in the courtroom to rise.

"Hey, for a second I thought I was going to go it alone this morning ," Cutter whispered as she slipped past him.

"I got tied up with Jack," she responded as she handed him as file with the name 'Jackson' written on the tab. "He asked me to give you this."

As the pair took their seats, Cutter glanced at the bright yellow sticky on the face of the folder that had a short message written in the hurried scrawl he recognized as McCoy's.

_4:30 Clancy's. Be there._

_McCoy_


	9. Chapter 9

"And the moral of the story is?"

"There isnt one. But it does help explain why I'll never allow myself to be completely swept up onto the information highway," McCoy responded as he picked up the file that had been slapped down on the bar beside him and reached down for his satchel.

EADA Michael Cutter nodded in understanding as he gave the bartender his drink order. The after court crowd was just beginning to shuffle into the popular bar that was located on the corner of Centre and Baxter Streets. Cutter thought about the contents of the file and the elderly gentleman that had lost everything due to a scam that began with personal information obtained about him via the internet.

"Jack, Mr. Jackson didn't lose his home due the Net. He lost his home due to lack of knowledge and the evil in another person's heart," Cutter said with surprising sincerity. "Con men have been around since the beginning of time, well before the first email was ever sent."

"True, but after I watched what this man went through, I more or less decided I'd take my chances with the traditional bait and switch operators in the world and steer clear of the ones in cyberspace," McCoy said with a slight smile.

Cutter returned McCoy's smile as he reached for the frosty mug in front of him.

"I suspect even if you found yourself hoodwinked, you'd hardly react by tracking down and killing the man responsible, like Mr. Jackson did."

"I might not have shot the man," McCoy retorted as his smile grew broader, "but I have an advantage Mr. Jackson didn't. I have people like you and Connie that could help me make an SOB like that wish someone _would have_ just shot him."

Cutter recognized the older man's remark for what it was. While the new EADA could have easily given a polite nod of the head and turned the subject back to the pros and cons of internet use, Cutter took plove branch McCoy offered, anxious himself to have the chance to clear the air.

"For the record, the only way I'd get involved with Connie or anyone else in the office is if I was one hundred percent certain the attraction was a two way street and I'd never allow it to interfere with the integrity of the office, Jack. I have too much respect for not only the office, but women in general."

"I was out of line," McCoy said as he met the younger man's eyes. "I was out of line about Connie, as well as the Manning/Steel case. You've given me no reason to doubt your professionalism on any level. I hope you'll accept my apologies. I read your closing and the only thing that will make it better, is the delivery you'll give it on Friday."

Cutter took the hand McCoy offered and shook it with genuine pleasure.

"I just hope I'm able to live up to your expectations. You know Jack, you left me some pretty big shoes to fill. You're not the only one that's edgy about taking on a new job."

"You're a natural ,"McCoy said as he motioned to the bartender for another round. "I give you six months before I find you a sleep I your office or I get a call from one the judges telling me that you've been issued you first contempt citation."

Cutter's face reddened as he thought about the half a dozen or so contempt citations he'd racked up during his rotation in sex crimes. As if reading his mind McCoy chuckled.

"Nothing you did before coming to major felonies counts."

"Got it. Listen Jack. Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but I'm curious- "

"About why I've been riding you or why I'm backing off?"

"Both."

"Good answer," McCoy said with approval as he raised his glass in a mock salute. "The first was due more to ego and the beginnings of senility…Mike when I first started in the DA's office I thought I'd like to have the power that comes with being DA. After seeing what that kind of power does to a person…after seeing the high and the mighty fall over the years…the last thing I wanted was to become a politician. The last decade or so I thought I'd be in what's now your office, until the cleaning crew found me hunched over and stiff some morning."

"I'd heard you weren't one for rubbing elbows with the rich and brainless," Cutter joked, pleased to see he'd gotten a warm laugh out of the DA. "Most people assume you took the job to spare us another DA that cares more about using the office as a stepping stone than justice."

"Just between us, if Arthur hadn't threatened to let the that happen, I'd have never agreed to take this job."

"You know Jack, if you hate the job that much," Cutter said frankly. "You don't_ have_ to run when your term's up."

_…I know you don't want to think about running for a second term and what that entails, but I know you, Jack. You're not going to be happy stepping down and working for some career politician…_

McCoy sighed heavily as he thought about his fiancée's words. Even though the transition from prosecutor to DA had been more difficult than he'd imaged, he knew she was right. Going from DA to a prosecutor who had to follow the dictates of another politician…maybe even one who had never even _been_ a prosecutor…would be more than he could stomach.

"The job's growing on me, I just have to avoid eating chicken whenever I can," McCoy quipped. "Which reminds me: The next banquet I'm invited to, I'm delegating to you and Connie."

The mention of the attractive ADA's name brought about an awkward silence from both men; each man uncomfortably aware it had been the battle of wills over this woman that brought things between them to a head.

"Listen, Jack. About Connie," Cutter began, deciding spoiling a surprise was better than leaving McCoy with an errouneous impression of his top gun.

"Mike, I already heard it from Connie," McCoy interjected. "When she told me herself _she'd_ been the one who had talked _you_ out of your clothes, I knew I'd been way out of line."

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Malinowski was half listening, half debating whether to pack the dress she had bought that fateful day in Niagara Falls, for their next attempt at matrimony. She studied the pale lavender lace dress from the bathroom, taking care not to let her future husband see the dress and further risk jinxing the day.

McCoy leaned back on the headboard and continued to recall the events of his day. When he got to his exchange with Mike Cutter at _Clancy'__s_, McCoy laughed softly as he heard the 'clang' of the hanger hitting the bathroom floor.

"Are you serious," Malinowski gasped as she dashed out of the bathroom and perched herself on the other side of the bed. "Connie _told you_ she and Mike are sleeping together?"

McCoy gave her a roguish grin as he shook his head.

"That's not what I said, counselor. I _said_ she talked Mike out of his clothes."

"Meaning what? That Connie has suddenly become a nudist and would like to see the Manhattan DA's office go that way as well," she shot back as she rumpled his already windblown hair.

"Meaning Connie shares the same obsession with massage oil and strangers that you and my former wife share."

McCoy watched with amusement as Malinowski pondered his words, finally nodded with understanding as she moved to return to her task.

"The Red Door sample massage at the mall," Malinowski asked, still trying to fit the pieces together. "I saw the ad for the opening week promotion, but that still doesn't explain why she'd invite Mike Cutter to go with her."

"Let's just say Connie's mouth is as big as her heart. Apparently, Connie had enlisted Mike's help in looking for a gift for us from my staff. After Mike suggested Blackberry's for both of us, Connie opted for the mall. I swore to Mike we'd act surprised when Connie give us the gift, so…"

"No problem here. But blackberry's? Why would Mike think of fruit for…," the light of comprehension flashed across her face. Malinowski gave her fiancée and knowing pat on the arm. "Ah, _now_ I get it. Well, consider yourself lucky, Jack. Once you try a Swedish massage at The Red Doornot only will you wonder why you waited so long to try one, you'll be doubly happy they went for a massage instead of a cell phone that makes thinking a thing of the past."

Before his fiancée could get completely away from him, McCoy reached out a hand and playfully pulled her back to him.

"A massage as opposed to a cell phone? As far which will motivate active thought, I can tell you the kinds of thoughts a massage will generate, especially if were in there together," he said smoothly as he swiftly rolled on top of her to prevent her escape.

As McCoy's tongue slipped through her lips and began exploring her mouth, Malinowski abandoned her half hearted struggle to break free. As she gave in, an unsteady sigh escaped her, while she returned his increasingly passionate kiss. As he ran his hands up her back, McCoy reached to unfasten her bra.

"Oh God Jack, you timing couldn't be worse."

McCoy opened his eyes in surprise and raised an eyebrow as he looked down at her.

"I've still got to figure out what to wear for the wedding," she responded reluctantly.

"Just do what I plan on doing," he replied with a crooked smile. "Wait until Friday morning. Go to the closet and pull out the most expensive thing that's still clean and you're done."

Malinowski rolled her eyes as she slipped out from underneath her lover.

"Sure _you_ can get away with that. You're the one with about fifty grey suits and white dress shirts in the closet," she countered as she started back towards the bathroom.

"Frankly you could wear your Sanford sweatshirt and a pair of jeans and it wouldn't bother me in the least."

"Well it would bother me," she retorted as she tossed as pillow in his direction before heading towards the bathroom door. "Besides the fact I want to take you breath away, we're giving up a ceremony with our family and friends. I'd like to at least look the part when I marry you."

"Understood," he said as he propped himself on an elbow while watching his fiancée return with the dress in hand. "So what's the verdict?"

Malinowski looked regretfully at the dress while she adjusted its position on the hanger.

"It's a great dress, but I might as well give to Goodwill. There's no way I'll wear it after the kidnapping."

McCoy nodded in agreement. When some of the items that had been held by the Canadian police started to trickle back to them, he had seriously thought about discarding the dress himself, certain the memories of that day would outweigh any desire Malinowski might haveto keep it.

"As flattered as I am that you want to take my breath away, I would have thought by now you'd have figured out it isn't what you wear that does that."

Malinowski smiled back at him with pleasure before she turned her attention back to the items on her side of the closet.

"Be that as it may, it looks like a trip to Turner'sis in order," she said thoughtfully.

"Turner's?"

"The bridal shop two blocks from the courthouse. Looks like that's where I'll be going for lunch tomorrow," she explained as she leaned back on the closet door and looked at McCoy expectantly. "What about transportation? I assume were taking my Z to the airport, as opposed to the bike?"

"As much as I'd like to walk into that church with the both of clad in leather jumpsuits, practically speaking the Z makes the most sense."

"Good," she said, still chuckling at the mental picture of herself and McCoy strolling into the church looking the part of biker and biker chick. "So do you think you'll have your stuff packed and ready to go in the morning or do you want just bring it with you to work Friday and bring it down with you when I pick you up?"

"Why don't I just put it in the car before you leave Friday morning," he asked, clearly confused.

"Because_ you_ won't be here Friday morning," she countered firmly. "You can't stay with me the night before we get married. It's bad luck and God knows we've had enough of that."

"You're not serious," he asked with a groan, already knowing the answer. "You know technically, Friday night is the night before the ceremony so- "

"That's why I booked a second room for Friday night," she with a grin.

"Brooke, I don't want to seem crass but we've been sharing a bed for over a year. It's not like were kids here."

"Listen Jack, _I_ don't want to seem superstitious here," she said mirroring his slightly impatient tone. "But, we tried it the first time your way and … well... look what happened."

McCoy's eyes widened, first in stunned shock at her reference to their ill fated trip, then with the realization of what her terms meant and that all the logic in the world wasn't going to help him win this potential argument.

"So," he began as he left the bed to stand in front of her. "What you're saying is that tonight is the last night I'll have a chance to make love with my fiancée."

Malinowski looked at him coyly as she played with the belt of her robe.

"Yes, I suppose that's one way to look at it."

"Well, I wish you'd said something sooner," he said as he lifted her chin. "I'd have spent less time talking and more time touching."

"Don't you have packing to do," she asked with amusement as she ran her hands up his tee shirt and behind his neck.

"I'll do it after the bachelor party Thursday night," he countered as he brought his lips down on hers.

Malinowski's breath quickened as she responded to the lingering kiss.

"Humm…this is the first I've heard of a bachelor party," she whispered as she kissed him lightly on the lips.

"It's the first I've thought of it," he admitted as he untied her belt. "Now that I know I'll be on my own Thursday, I have to find something to do with my few remaining hours of bachelorhood."

"Scantily clad dancing girls popping out of cakes appeals to you does it," she asked as she stepped slightly back to slip off the only barrier between her naked body and her lover. "Too bad your exclusive bed partner will be otherwise occupied."

"But we've got tonight," he replied with a smirk as he dropped his tee shirt on top of her robe.

"Who needs tomorrow," she whispered with a smirk of her own as she reached for his belt buckle.

"Let's make it last," he responded as his hand cupped her breast.

"Let's find a way," she moaned as she slid his pants towards the floor. "Turn out the light."

"We've got tonight, babe," he said as he took her hand and led her back to bed. "Why don't you stay?"


	10. Chapter 10

"Look, you're my best friend. This is what best friend's do, so stop complaining and answer the question."

Jake Cohen sighed heavily as he watched Malinowski model what seemed like the hundredth dress in a half an hour.

"You know the last time we did this, you found the dress in less than twenty minutes," he retorted as his eyes scanned the rack that was almost full of the dresses his friend had already rejected.

"That's because last time I was a size six and anything looks good on me when I'm a six. Besides, beforeI married Sam I'd spent three months skimming the bridal magazines. I knew what I wanted when I walked in here with you. Now seriously Jake," she said as she looked at herself critically in the full length mirror beside him. "Does the flared skirt make my ass stick out?"

"Not that your ass isn't an attractive one, but I think you're right. Try the yellow suit."

"I don't know. The skirt is satin and it looks tight-"

Cohen glanced at his watch as he gave Malinowski a push towards the dressing rooms.

"Try it. The color's going to be great on you and it's got an A line skirt. Now go. We only have forty five minutes before I have to be back in court."

Cohen ran his hands absentmindedly over the top of the rack of suits and cocktail dresses as the door to the bridal shop opened.

"I was right," Malinowski said through the dressing room door. "I can't even get it to lay right. What do you think about the beige tea dress?"

"By all means," Cohen said as he smiled patiently at the attractive African American woman who was talking to the counter girl. "Let's see the beige number."

"Listen, Jake. What about the royal blue one?"

"The one with the lace," he asked with exasperation, as he pointed it out to the woman who was walking towards him. "I told you it looks like a prom dress."

Anita Van Buren pulled the dress out and nodded with a grin.

"Well, the beige washes me out and I'm running out of choices here."

"Listen," the lieutenant said softly. "I need to talk to your boss and you look like you'd rather be anywhere but here. You mind if I take over for you?"

"And here I thought angels were just in heaven," Cohen said with a wink. "I don't know who you are, but I owe you, lovely lady."

"Afraid, I'm just a blue angel from Manhattan," Van Buren replied as she handed Cohen the card she removed from her jacket pocket.

"Ah lieutenant," Cohen responded as he offered his hand. "I've heard both Brooke and Jack say someone wonderful things about you. You're the one that taught Brooke how to make tamale pie that is actually edible. Obviously, I'm leaving her in good hands."

"Jake are you still out there," Malinowski demanded. "Ask Lori to pull some more dresses in a size ten."

"Give me a minute, Brooke," Cohen called from the door.

Van Buren met the sales girl half way and the pair went through a rack of suits and semi formal gowns. Van Buren frowned. Malinowski's problem was immediate;y clear to the homicide chief. Most of the dresses were either too ornate or much too young for a middle aged bride.

"This is it? This is everything you have, "she asked the sales girl.

"Ms. Malinowski said she didn't want anything too formal or anything floor length," the girl explained. "If we'd had even a week's notice, we could have ordered something from our catalog or checked another store but, with her needing it by tomorrow…"

"Humm…what about those," Van Buren asked as she pointed at a rack across the room. "Those look nice."

"I just finished putting those out while she was in the dressing room. They're mostly bridesmaid dresses that just came in this morning."

"Well, let's take a look," Van Buren replied.

While her original intent was to fill the EADA in on her concerns about a verdict that was sure to come down Friday on the Manning/ Steele case, Van Buren found herself drawn into the search for Malinowski's wedding attire. As a middle aged woman herself, Van Buren could sympathize with the challenge to find something not too young, yet not too matronly. It was a challenge Van Buren found herself determined to rise up to.

"Come on Jake I have to meet with Jackowicz at one fifteen. At this rate I'm going to be wearing a potato sack when I walk down the aisle!"

Van Buren studied the pale green dress carefully.

"Jake are you still out there?"

"Hold your horse's counselor," Van Buren responded as she slipped the garment above the dressing room door. "No one's going to let you walk down the aisle in a potato sack."

"_Anita_," Malinowski stammered as she peaked out from the dressing room. "What are you doing here?"

"Right now, I'm helping you find a wedding dress. We'll talk after you try that one. If it doesn't work for you, I may have to have some uniforms raid Macy's bridal department and use their lights and sirens to get some more dresses out here."

A few minutes later, the pair stood in front of the full length mirror, both nodding approvingly. The sleeveless satin dress had a V-neck that was supported by a chiffon pleated bodice. The bolero jacket gave the knee length dress a sophisticated look.

"You throw in a pill box hat with an eye length veil and I think you're set," Van Buren commented.

"You know Anita, I think you're right," the future bride said softly, still staring at her reflection.

Van Buren gave her a knowing smile as she slipped an arm around the other woman shoulders.

"Jack's going to be blown away when he sees you. You look beautiful, Brooke."

"Thanks, Anita."

"You know the best part, right," Van Buren asked as the EADA looked at her blankly. "Not only do you look gorgeous, the sea foam green will go perfectly with grey."

A burst of laughter escaped from both women's lips, as Malinowski turned to find the sales girl.

After making arrangements for a hat, matching shoes, and a clutch bag, the two women started the short walk back to Malinowski's office.

"When your secretary told me where to find you, I was surprised. I had no idea you and Jack were planning to get married this weekend," Van Buren said as they started across the intersection.

"You know Jack. He tends to keep his personal life to himself," Malinowski replied. "Although, I'm sure he planned on telling you so soon as we got back, Anita. I know Jack thinks of you as a friend – a close one- at that."

"When you two get back Don and I will have to have you both back out to the house to celebrate."

"We'd love that Anita, but I know you didn't make the trip across the bridge in the middle of a work day for social reasons. I know I've been distracted this week. Do we have a case in common that I'm not remembering?"

"Not the way you mean," Van Buren reluctantly began. "You know Cutter is giving his closing in the Manning/Steele case this afternoon?"

"Jack mentioned it. Things seemed to have moved faster than anyone expected with this one. He thinks they may have a verdict sometime Friday."

"Brooke, the police commissioner has the riot squad on standby all ready," Van Buren confided. "I talked to Jack this morning and we're meeting at the courthouse as soon as word comes down that the jury's reached a verdict."

Malinowski stopped in front of the steps leading into her building.

"I told Jack the mayor might have shut the city down."

"I told Jack if there's any way he can get Cutter to offer a deal…to head this thing off …he better do it fast,"Van Buren countered; her reason for coming to see Malinowski becoming clearer.

"Anita, I know Jack respects your judgment. If he thought a deal could be made, he'd order Mike to make it."

"Well, I wish I was as sure as you are."

Malinowski studied Van Buren's troubled face and frowned. She and McCoy had vowed not to interfere in each other's professional lives, no matter how tempting it might seem at times. They had already had more than their share of conflict without adding work related conflicts into the mix.

"Anita, if you're here to ask me to talk to Jack about this, I'm afraid I can't do that."

"Can't or won't?"

"Anita," Malinowski gasped. "Sounding like Jack isn't going to make me change my mind. This is an ongoing trial. Jack can't discuss it with me beyond generalities. He isn't going to let me tell him how to do his job any more than I'd listen if he-"

"If you really want to marry him Saturday, you better hope that jury as enough sense to convict Gretchen Steele or you better talk some sense into Jack."

"This isn't about what's convenient for Jack and me."

"You're right. It's about the city turning into a riot zone if that jury doesn't have the backbone to do what's right."

Malinowski could see the desperation in the other woman's eyes. She knew Van Buren was right. The city would be a mass of violence and destruction if the system failed and Gretchen Steele went free…especially if Manning was convicted instead.

"If I thought for a second what I had to say would change Jack's mind," Malinowski began as her cell phone started to ring. "Sorry, Anita. Just a second."

Malinowski sighed as she checked the number of the incoming call and opened her phone. She marveled at McCoy's timing and pondered letting the call go to voice mail. The look in Van Buren's eyes immediately made her ashamed of even thinking about taking the easy way out.

"Jack, any word on the Manning/Steele case," she asked with bluntness that surprised not only herself, but the woman beside her. "…because it's been on my mind. You said Mike was closing this afternoon? …I see," she replied as she smiled at Van Buren. "What did Anita want?...So are you offering a plea? …Really?... Look, I'm due in with Jackowicz any minute now, so can I call you back?... I love you, too."

The two women stood silently for a moment, each waiting for the other to speak. Malinowski slipped her phone back into her jacket pocket. Finally a mildly annoyed Van Buren raised an eyebrow.

"Well, I guess I have my answer. You're obviously not going to change your mind about talking to Jack."

"Anita, if I didn't know you were happily married I'd be beside myself with jealousy right now," she said wistfully. "You don't know how much influence you have with that man. Seems he's already spoken to Cutter and had him set up a my meeting with defense counsel. His exact words were 'Van Buren's right'. Now, you tell me, how often does anyone hear _that_ from Jack McCoy?"


	11. Chapter 11

The guests ath the 'bachelor party' Jack McCoy had alluded to the night before consisted of himself and the night bartender at Clancy's. Party favors consisted of a shot glass and a bottle of scotch.

The bar itself was nearly empty. The happy hour crowd had gone a few hours before. The handful of patrons tht remained included a defense lawyer and judge who were finishing a game of chess at the other end of the room, a couple playingn 'will she ort won't she' in one of the booths, and a small group in the backroom who were practicing for the bars upcoming annual darts tournament.

Normally, the three time champion of the tournament would have joined the group, seizing the opportunity to make some extra cash for his honeymoon, as he'd done with a group of his friends the night before his first marriage. However, after hearing Cutter's disappointing news regarding the plea bargain for the defendants in the Manning/ Steele case, McCoy opted to spend the evening alone.

The irony of him sitting in the same bar he'd spent his last night of freedom in, more than twenty years before, was not lost on McCoy. The irony was just pushed to the back of his mind as he focused on the possible consequences of letting such a volatile case go to verdict.

McCoy remembered the race riots of the sixties, both in New York and his hometown of Chicago. He remembered the destruction and panic of the 9/11 attacks. If the jury let him down, the consequences could be equally as devastating.

He took the phone out of his pocket and briefly pondered calling his fiancée. It seemed no matter how trying, no matter how stressful the day had been, going home to Malinowski's humor and passion was a welcome reprieve from whatever demons he'd been fighting on any given day. Sitting alone in Clancy's that night, McCoy realized how much he'd come to look forward to coming home every night to her.

"Maybe the third time really is the charm," he said softly as he poured himself another drink.

"Against my better judgment, I throw a beautiful woman into your arms and you end up in _Clancy's_ huggin' a bottle of booze instead? I told Danielle you were an idiot."

"She threw me out again," McCoy said, as he reached behind the bar for another shot glass. "Care to join me in drowning my sorrows, Sam?"

Sam Prescott shook his head as he sat down next to McCoy.

"As long as you're buyin'," he said as he picked up the glass. "My God, what the hell did you do _this time_, McCoy?"

"I asked her to marry me."

Prescott gave McCoy a startled look as he reached for the bottle.

"Again?"

"For the last time."

"And she said?"

"Yes."

"She said 'yes' and threw you out?"

"We're getting married Saturday and she has this idea that we'll jinx it if we sleep together before the wedding so…here I am."

Prescott nodded as he began to chuckle.

"That sounds like Mal. Consider yourself lucky. She threw me out a week before our wedding," Prescott replied as he loosened his tie. "Saturday, huh? Last weekend you two weren't even talkin' to each other. Guess I can tell Danielle you two finally made up.'Pose this means you're headin' to Atlantic City?"

"We're gonna try Canada again,"McCoy replied, raising his hand as he saw the look of concern on the other man's face."Don't worry. I have no intention of letting Brooke anywhere near the scene of her kidnapping. We're just going across the border so we can use the license for the ceremony. Then we'll turn around and spent the rest of the time in the US side of the Falls, where there's no chance of seeing any unplsant reminders of the last trip."

Prescott nodded as in took a sip of the scotch.

"So you two will be headin' up after work Friday. Guess that explains why you're sittin' here with a bottle. Kind of surprisin' for a guy like you."

"What is?"

"No wild oats to sow on your last night of freedom?"

"Don't tell me you had a wild fling the night before you married Brooke…or before you married Danielle…for that matter."

"I'm not the one with the reputation with the ladies, Jack. I still can't get over the fact I managed to get not, one but three amazing women, to agree to a life with me."

"Believe it or not Sam, I feel the same way," McCoy said as he turned to face the other man. "After my last marriage, I thought the only love affair I had left in me was with a mistress named Dewar's. Believe me; I know how lucky I am to have found Brooke. I have no intention of risking that luck by having a fling before or after the wedding."

Prescott resisted the urge to remind his former rival of the incident with Vanessa Galiano that led to Prescott having to throw his former wife back into McCoy arms, in the first place.

"Wise move on your part, Jack. Maybe there's hope for you yet. But, be warned: Mal puts up with even less after the weddin' than before it. Unless you have a death wish-"

"Got it, Sam. I thought you and Danielle weren't due back in town until Sunday?"

"Had to cut St. Bart's short when one of Danielle's clients got himself in trouble with your office. She wanted to fly back on her own, but what fun is a topical paradise without your bride? Besides, I have a case goin' to the grand jury Monday, so…"

McCoy nodded in understanding, as he tried to recall what case had come in earlier in the week that the new Mrs. Prescott would be likely to be handling.

"Well, if the verdict goes south in the Manning case tomorrow, you'll have plenty of time to prepare for your grand jury."

"Yep, I heard your man Cutter finished up his closing today. I'll bet those jurors are throwing back their share of libations tonight. Gonna be a tough call."

"Not if they follow the law," McCoy retorted as he returned his attention to the scotch bottle in front of him.

"I haven't seen the evidence, but I_ have_ seen Gretchen Steele," Prescott countered with genuine regret. "Gonna be hard for some folks to send Doris Day to Attica."

"Doris Day wasn't responsible arming her children and causing the death of one of them."

"Agreed. Well, I wish you and your people luck."

"Thanks, but when someone like Anita Van Buren comes hat I hand to voice her concerns, you know you'll need enough luck to have an act of God take place to ensure justice is served."

"Well, try not to let the thing put a damper on your weddin' day," Prescott said as he stood. "Thanks for the drink and the company."

"Leaving the party so soon?"

"'Friad so. I had a meetin' run late and figured I'd stop in here to see if Danielle was still waitin' on me. Better call her from the cab and let her know I haven't forgotten my way home. Give Mal my best wishes," he said as he offered McCoy his hand. "You know, I _told_ that girl she'd end up marryin' you. Now, spare us both the trouble of me havin' to come after you with a horse whip and take good care of her."

"After everything it's taken for us to get this far, the last thing I intend to do is give Brooke any reason to regret her decision to marry me."

As McCoy shook his hand, his eyes fell on the shiny gold band on Prescott's other hand. McCoy glanced at the clock behind the bar and said the first prayer he'd said since Malinowski's kidnapping. Knowing the chances of him becoming a happily married man hinged on the wisdom and courage of twelve strangers, he silently prayed they'd have the strength to do the right thing. Not just for his own personal peace of mind, but for the peace of mind of the city, it self.


	12. Chapter 12

"I don't know why you didn't just take the day off and stay in Manhattan," District Attorney Michael Jackowicz said as he watched his Executive Assistant reach for another file.

"First of all, getting kidnapped used up most of my vacation days,"she replied with a wiry smile. "Second of all, I have a motion hearing on the triple homicide from last weekend at one fifteen with Judge Ellis. Wedding or not, you know how amused Ellis would be if I blew that off."

"Brooke, just because I don't run cases anymore doesn't mean I can't still handle a motion hearing," Jackowicz retorted as he closed the door and moved to the chair across from her. "As for the time itself, call it comp time for your overtime from the last few weeks. You mind isn't here anyway. It's on what every New Yorker's mind is on: What the jury's going to say in the Manning/Steele case.You just have the added distraction of planning a wedding."

Malinowski knew the older man was right. On the train in, her car had been a buzz with debates on how the verdict would go and where to peopel would stay if the mayor shut down public transportation, should he decide to seal off the city.

As much as she'd been tempted to call in and slip over to One Hogan Place to see how McCoy was holding up, her common sense told her the last thing McCoy needed was one more person hovering. In addition, Malinowski knew that she would only be in the way if she had opted to stay at the loft.

That morning Don Van Buren was scheduled to bring his crew over to assemble Malinowski wedding present to her soon to be husband. The real reason Malinowski had insisted McCoy stay away from the loft Thursday night was the fact Van Buren would be arriving first thing Friday morning, well before McCoy would have left for work. With both occupants at work the crew could work in peace and Malinowski's efforts to surprise McCoy would remain in tact.

"Michael if you start doing my motion hearings, the next thing you'll want to do is try my cases and then where would I be," she said with grin. "You've already been more than generous. With any luck, the jury could deliberate into the weekend."

"Possible, but not likely," Jackowicz replied as he stood. "My sources on Manhattan tell me Mr. Cutter's closing tied things up very neatly. The jury either accepts the facts or turns a blind eye. It won't take long for them to figure out the path they want to take. You're free for the next half hour?"

"I'm free until I see Ellis. Why? Something need doing?"

"Actually, I want to review the statistics on the trade off with Manhattan again," Jackowicz said as they walked across the hall. "Your future husband has been chewing my backside ever since we went to court over the 500 feet rule and I want to be sure our data's correct."

Malinowski gave her boss a quizzical look, knowing they had gone of the same data thoroughly days before she had gone up against Jack McCoy in court.

"Michael, those figures are accurate. I double checked them myself," she said earnestly as stood in front of his door.

"Well, Jack seems to feel there as accurate as the fact you were madder than hell at him when you brought them to my attention," he said bluntly.

Jackowicz bit back a smile as he watched his second in command's face change from the calm serenity of an expectant bride, to the surprised impatience of a prosecutor who'd just been indirectly accused of misconduct.

Fiancée or no fiancée, Malinowski went into fighting mode.

"Does he? Well, he's full of crap," she said as she swung the door open to enter the darkened room. "I knew Jack liked to win, but I had no idea he could be such a sore loser. I'd be more than happy to show you _exactly_ where-"

Malinowski's words were cut short when she flipped the light switch on and was met with a long chrous of 'surprise' and other well wishes. When she met Jackowicz grinning gaze, she could feel her eyes dampen as she looked around the room decorated with crate paper and balloons that read 'Good luck, Mrs.McCoy!'

"I can't believe you did this. You hate this sort of thing Michael," she gasped as she threw her arms around the man the amused DA.

"It was either go along with this or have Cohen take you and the rest of the staff down to The Barrister at noon to celebrate with a liquid lunch. God knows how many of you would have been late to court and you know what_ that_ would have cost this office in contempt citation fines."

"I always knew underneath that tough exterior was a softy," Malinowski joked as she kissed his cheek.

"Enough of that sentimental nonsense," Cohen said as he handed her a glass of sparkling cider. "Michael's given us forty five minutes to feed you, tease you, and get these gifts opened and out of here, so you better start unwrapping."

"Listen guys, you know I just moved a house full of stuff,"she said as Cohen led her to Jackowicz's desk, wherean assortment of wrapped boxes and gift bags filled the desk top."You didn't have to buy-"

"I doubt your house was full of _this_ kind of stuff," Taz Montez from Major Felonies said suggestively, as the rest of the group laughed knowingly, while she handed Malinowski a gift bag from _Heidi's House of Love._

Malinowski blushed as she peeked in the bag.

"I thought vice closed that place down when they found out Heidi was running peep shows in the backroom."

"Think like a bride, not a prosecutor, Malinowski," a familiar voice in the back of the room boomed.

"_Clint_?!"

Clint Renard slipped through the crowd and gave his former lover a chaste kiss on the cheek, as he put an arm around her shoulders and pulled the lacy red garment from the bag.

"Damn Taz, if wife number one had worn something like that, there wouldn't have been a wife number two," the former EADA said as he handed the item back to its owner. "I was in town to finish some paperwork on the sale of my house and I heard McCoy was finally making an honest woman out of you. I wanted had to stop by and give the bride a kiss."

"I'm glad you did," she said quietly as she squeezed his hand. "How are things in with –"

"Listen, you two will have plenty of time to visit after we get these gifts opened," Cohen interjected in a tone not to be questioned, as he handed her another box. "Some of us have been waiting since your _first_ trip to Canada to see if you like what we bought."

"Fine," Malinowski replied with a smirk as she read the card and smiled up at her best friend. "'A gift for motorcycle lovers everywhere?'"

Malinowski carefully shook the slender box before tearing the wrapping paper and cautiously gazing inside.

"Oh. My. God,"she breathed as she pulled out the brown leather bustier and matching panties.

Before she could finish her remark, the DA's secretary whispered something to Jackowicz, who in turn moved to the front of the room where the entertainment center stood.

"Quiet everyone. Helen tells me the verdict is in the Manning/Steel case in Manhattan," the DA explained as he turned on the television. "WSUF is carrying it live from the courthouse."

The room full of prosecutors grew quiet as the television came to life in time to see AnitaVan Buren and Jack McCoy coming towards the camera crews at the top of the steps of the Centre Street courthouse.

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"No comment! Let us through, please," Van Buren snapped as flash bulbs blinded her and the pressure of the crowd pressing against herself and McCoy made her feel mildly claustrophobic. McCoy glanced at the commander of the 2 7, concerned they would be separated by the mob of reporters. Sensing Van Buren's discomfort, McCoy took her by the elbow and began shoving his way up the last remaining of the teps to get to the Centre Street entrance to the courthouse.

"Until we hear what the jury has to say, neither of us have anything to tell you. Now step back,"he barked, as he reached for the door and guided Van Buren inside.

"Damn Jack, they're like vultures that smell fresh meat," Van Buren said as she set her purse on the conveyor belt for the courthouse security team.

"For the press, a hot story is the same thing as fresh road kill to a predator," he retorted as he met her on the other side of the mental detector. "Listen, Anita. Maybe you better call Don and let him know you're safe. He's bound to have heard- "

"I called him before I came over here," she said with the hint of a smile. "When I told him I would be with you when the verdict came down, he said to make sure his number one customer made it out alive. Oh, and he wanted me to tell you the new order of dry wall just came in…in case you're ready to throw up those walls."

McCoy chuckled as the elevator doors opened.

"As a matter of fact, after talking to the permit people downtown, Brooke and I decided to wait on walls. Apparently throwing up walls changes the status of the loft to some other dwelling and after the inspections and permits it's just not worth the trouble."

Van Buren nodded. She remembered the mass of money and headaches it had taken to complete the addition to her own house several years before. Taking a deep breath she looked back up at the tall, lean man that had stood beside her through so many difficult times before. She worried about who would take his place if the man who swore he didn't 'do politics' decided running for a full term as DA would be too much of a personal, as well as professional, sacrifice to make.

"Jack, whatever happens, I know you did you best."

McCoy met Van Buren's somber look with one of touched surprise. The last time he'd seen his friend and colleague, he knew he had left her dissatisfied and frustrated. In the time it took him to walk from the park to his office after their meeting, McCoy knew what he had to do. Sadly, neither side had been willing to budge when Cutter and Rubirosa made the best offer possible of a plea bargain that would have put an end to the possibility of Manhattan becoming a war zone if a less than just verdict came down on the case.

"That means a lot to me Anita," McCoy said as they started down the hall towards the trial parts. "Now we'll just have to pray the jury as done their best, as well."

When McCoy and Van Buren slipped into the courtroom, the jury had just begun to file in. As he took his seat, McCoy discreetly felt for the cell phone in his jacket pocket. He knew as soon as the verdict came down, his first call had to be to the mayor, to let him know whether or not to have to Chief of Police activate the riot squad.

"Madam Foreperson, as the jury reached a verdict?"

"We have your honor," the woman said as she handed the bailiff the appropriate form.

After the judge carefully read the form, he turned his attention back to the woman.

"What say you?"

McCoy could feel the muscles in his stomach relax as he listened to the verdict with a sense of wonderment. As Cutter and Rubirosa gazed at each other, not sure if they could believe their ears, McCoy turned to Van Buren.

"Justice," he said with the same kind of wonder a child feels when they see their first shooting star.

"Who'd of thought, "Van Buren replied, with equal amazement.


	13. Chapter 13

"I usually celebrate after a big win, like today's," McCoy said with feigned disappointment."Who'd of thought I'd dodge my first real bullet as DA and I'd be spending the night alone?"

Malinowski gave her lover a sideways glance as they pulled into the parking lot of St. Gabriel's Catholic Church. Throughout their ride to the airport, three hour plane ride, and hour drive from the airport to the church, they had intermittently continued the same debate.

"You know, the more you talk, the more you sound like a prepubescent teenager whose trying to score," she countered playfully. "Come on Jack, its one night. Besides, given some of the gifts I received today, I'm more than equipped to make it up to you Saturday night."

"I suppose pressing you on the way to see a priest would just prove your point," he said with a sigh, as he reached for her hand.

"You know I'm more than proud of you. You took a stand most DA's would have backed away from and you were proven right."

"I took a stand that could have thrown the city into chaos and I got lucky,"he said somberly. "Besides, Mike and Connie did the real work. I just pointed the in the right direction and gave them a shove."

"This is another reason why I love you," she said quietly, before she gently kissed his lips. "Even my own boss isn't as modest as you are. Most DA's would be more than willing to take the credit for such a big win. Especially if they were interim DA's, looking at having to run in their first election in the not too distant future. You know, future donors will look at today and see someone they don't mind opening their checkbooks for-"

McCoy returned the kiss as he shook his head with bewilderment.

"Brooke, the last thing I care about right now is fundraising for a campaign I may or may not have. Would you be terribly disappointed if I just said to hell with it and _didn't_ run when the time comes?"

"Disappointed? Oh God Jack, I'd be_ relieved_ if you_ really_ wanted to stay out of politics," she replied wistfully, as she searched the dark brown eyes. "I told you before, it's your career. You should do what makes you happy. All I'm saying is, today was a win for you, in more ways than one."

"Right now the only 'win' I'm interested in is making you my wife before something else gets in the way," he replied as he slipped his hand behind her head and began to kiss her once more.

Malinowski smiled as the kiss grew more demanding. As she parted her lips, she found it amazing that after being apart a mere twenty four hours, her body could feel so depraved…so in need of his touch…

As she felt his hand ever so gently graze her breast, Malinowski found herself blinded by a sudden burst of light. As she squinted to try to see the source of the light, McCoy abruptly let her go, swearing softly under his breath as he rolled down the window.

"Father, I-"

The elderly man with the stark white collar against a black shirt and slacks gave the couple an amused nod.

"I sure hope you're the couple from New York."

"We are Father. We just got in from the airport," McCoy began as Malinowski self consciously checked her blouse for open buttons and quickly wiped her lipstick for McCoy's lips.

"Then let's get you two inside,"he said with a chuckle."From the looks of things, the sooner we get the two of you married, the better."

In was nearly midnight when the rental car pulled into the bed and breakfast just outside of Niagara Falls. McCoy and Malinowski had spent the drive in uncharacteristic silence, as Father Angus O'Malley's words rang with deafening finality in their minds.

_"I see from your license, both of you have been married before. None of these previous unions were blessed by the church," the robust Father Angus __MacFadden__ asked as he looked to each of them for confirmation._

_"My marriage was performed by a Presbyterian minster," Malinowski said with a hint of defiance, knowing where the conversation was headed._

_"My marriages were both civil ceremonies," McCoy added hoping to head off a confrontation between bride and priest. "So,__ I__ assume our civil divorce papers are all you need to perform the ceremony?"_

_MacFadden__ gave the nervous groom a knowing smile._

_"I'm sure you're both aware that previous marriages that were not made within the Catholic __church__ are __non existent__, in the eyes of the church, so you are correct John. Your previous unions will present no problem in me marrying the two of you."_

_McCoy gave her hand a squeeze that was returned with enough pressure to make him close his eyes in pain. He knew how petty and archaic his bride found church doctrine …especially involving marriage and children. He also knew if they had a hope in hell becoming man and wife, they had to play the game._

_"He prefers Jack," Malinowski added tightly. _

_"Then 'Jack' it is," __MacFadden__ said with a slight bow. "Now then, have you two discussed plans for any children?"_

_"Given both our ages, we both feel the time for children has come and gone, Father. However-"_

_"However, Jack has a daughter from his first marriage which, by the churches standards means she doesn't exist as well, right?"_

_"My dear," the priest said somberly as he patted the hand that held McCoy's. "All children are blessings from God. You're right when you say the church does not acknowledge them as part of the church, but it's obvious from your tone that your love for your step daughter is deep. That love is something the church would not only ackn__owledge, but encourage, as well. That being said, although it may only a technicality on your part, I will still need you both to sign a convent stating if your union does produce any children, you will raise them in the Catholic church. Will that be a problem for either of you?"_

_McCoy gave his fiancée an inquiring look. They both had anticipated the question. They had discussed the probable result of meeting with the priest, on the plane trip to Canada. They had both agreed, despite their personal disagreements with church policy, that the important thing was to get married. Everything else would be water under the bridge once the ceremony was complete._

_But sitting across from a priest;a man no older than McCoy himself, listening to words he'd heard the first time as a boy, McCoy felt tightness in his throat and a gnawing at his conscious. He was about to lie to a man of God … to lie solely to get what he wanted…_

_"We're both aware of the covenant and we both intend to honor it, Father."_

_"Jack, I-"_

_"Excuse me Brooke," the priest said patiently. "I must remind you both of the seriousness of marrying within the church. Although you've both had previous unions… unions I have no doubt you both entered into in good conscious and with the intention of remaining in until death…a union within our church can only be broken by death or by annulment approved of by the church itself. In other words, if I marry you, this union cannot be broken by man or mans laws. This union **will** join you until you are parted by death."_

"I think this is a record," McCoy finally said with a tone that sounded falsely jovial. "I can't remember a time when you were this quiet, for this long."

"I'm just trying to decide how many ways what we just did was wrong," she said, her voice strained and weary, as she stared out the windshield into the darkness of the parking lot of the bed and breakfast.

"I'm not proud of it either, Brooke. If you want to call it off…if you want to go back to New York tonight and wait until we can get a license there…"

"Is that what you want, Jack?"

"I want what ever you want."

"That's not an answer," she said softly as she turned to face him. "I asked first. Is that what you'd like to do?"

McCoy sighed as he looked down at his hands.

"No," he said with certainty that surprised them both. "I want to marry you. I'm willing to do it anyway I can. We've waited too long. Frankly, being joined to you until death is something I planned on when I asked you to marry me."

"Me too, but it's the rest of it…signing the covenant…basically lying to a priest. God Jack, lying to a priest! How many Hail Mary's is that worth,anyway?"

"More than I can count," he said with a chuckle. "I agree. I didn't marry Liz in the church because there was no way in hell I was going to sign a covenant that said I'd raise a child in the church I'd already abandoned. It seemed more than hypocritical...it seemed like tempting fate."

Malinowski nodded vigorously as she leaned closer to her lover.

"I know what you mean. I felt like that tonight…like the minute I signed it I was going to get pregnant and have to follow through or have our baby turn into…I don't know…something out of _Rosemary's Baby_," she said before giving McCoy as light smack on the arm, as he began to snicker. "Hey! You think it's funny _now_, but nine months from now neither of us will be laughing when we walk into the nursery and find out we have a miniature Linda Blair in the crib."

"You realize what the odds are of us needing a crib ….whether or not the child is a demon… at this stage of the game," he asked as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

"I've done the math Jack," she said quietly, as she rested her head against his shoulder. "This isn't about logic or some misplaced desire to have a child. It's about that ingrained sense you get after being raised in the church… that sense that for every wrong you do there's a penance to be paid. Signing that covenant when we have no intention of honoring it is a wrong I can't help but think we're gonna pay for."

"Listen," he said as he kissed her cheek. "It's late. We're both exhausted. Let's sleep on it. Things have a way of looking better in the morning. Besides, if we stay out here much longer, it's going to be our wedding day and I know how you feel about jinxing it by being anywhere near me until the ceremony."

"Yeah, like lying to a priest hasn't topped sleeping with your fiancée the night before the ceremony."

McCoy shook his head as he opened is door and waited for her to pop the truck latch. A few minutes later, he handed her a garment bag and small suit case before giving her a final hug and looking into her eyes. McCoy would have given anything to kiss her uncertainty away; to caress the tension and weariness from her body...

Before he could give into temptation he quickly kissed her forehead.

"Sleep well, love," he said with a roguish smile before moving swiftly towards his room.


	14. Chapter 14

The dreams came in fragments ranging from snippets from his childhood and his days in Catholic school, to his disastrous flirtation with his first real love, Shelia Kowalski. After a restless night, McCoy finally threw back the covers and slipped on his dress shirt from the day before, along with a pair jeans and sneakers.

Anxious to walk off some of the uneasiness he still felt, McCoy decided to venture towards the dining room, hoping a cup of coffee, a look at the morning paper, and possibly an 'accidental' glance at his bride to be will serve to sooth his troubled mind.His hopes for the last item were dashed when he ventured outside and found that the rent a car was no where to be seen. McCoy checked his watch. The ceremony wasn't until ten o'clock. His watch said six forty five.

Given the events that had transpired on their last visit to Canada, it was understandable that McCoy's heart skipped a beat, as he stared at the empty space. Reminding himself of the many logical reasons Malinowski would have for having slipped away (restlessness after last night's meeting, the practical desire to fill the gas tank before she had to go back to the church, a sudden desire to find the perfect white chocolate raspberry mocha to start her wedding day with…) he forced himself to take a breath.

As he entered the lobby, he fought the urge to try her cell phone…to honor her wishes about having no contact before the ceremony. The moment he came into view, the girl behind the front desk smiled and reached for a small white envelope.

"Monsieur McCoy," the petite blonde called."This was left for you."

"Merci," McCoy responded, while reaching inside the envelope.

_Take a breath and relax. Thought about calling you, but you deserve to sleep. I'm fine. Just went to do some last minute soul searching. __Will see you at ten._

_I love you,_

_Brooke._

McCoy reread the small write card several times, before smiling and sticking it his shirt pocket.

_Soul searching, _he thought as he returned to the desk and gave the clerk his most charming smile.

"Mademoiselle?"

"Qui, Monsieur McCoy," the blonde replied as she returned his warm smile.

"Perhaps you can help me with a surprise for my fiancée?"

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After a quick shower and a jaunt to the dining room where she grabbed a croissant and a cup of coffee to take with her, Malinowski found herself in a place she hadn't been since the night before witnessing the results of her first death penalty case.

"Forgive me father, for I have sinned," she said in a voice barely above a whisper.

"How long as it been since your last confession, my child," replied Father MacFadden.

Malinowski cleared her throat several times before choking out a response.

"Fourteen years."

MacFadden's jovial chuckle caused her to smile as she waited for a response.

"Perhaps, in the interest of time, you'd care to skip to the _particular_ sin that's brought you here after so many years? Or perhaps, I can guess, Brooke Ann?"


	15. Chapter 15

When Jack McCoy entered the church, he wasn't sure which surprised him more: The fact his bride confident and relaxed, as if the events of the previous evening had been forgotten or the fact that he couldn't remember a time when his bride looked more beautiful.

Malinowski smiled her predictable, but dashing groom who wore a charcoal grey suit, white dress shirt, and striped tie.As he walked up the aisle to join his bride, McCoy smiled with pleasure, as he noted the simple bouquet of white roses and pale green carnations in his bride's hands.

"Good morning Jack," MacFadden said warmly. "I can see you're both anxious to begin. Let me just find Sister Kathryn and Sister Bridget so we have our witnesses and then we can start."

McCoy nodded as he turned to Malinowski and smiled down at her veiled face.

"I can't believe you remembered the flowers," she said with a smile. "It wouldn't have seemed right to marry you without those green carnations."

"Beautiful flowers for my beautiful bride. Found your soul did you," he said softly as he kissed her hand.

"It's your fault you know," she countered with equal reverence. "I'd have never found myself here, if it hadn't been for you. How's _that_ for a sign from God?"

McCoy's eyes widened as he looked at her with curiously.

"Meaning?"

"Meaning, I have to agree with something Father MacFadden said before you arrived. He said everything happens for a reason….obvious and simple I know…but in this case true. We're two black sheep getting married in the church, Jack. If that's not fate, I don't know what is."

"He got to you didn't he," McCoy said with amusement. "Found your soul? You went to confession, didn't you? I have to hand it to these priests. A few Hail Mary's and –"

"Okay, cut the wise ass McCoy," she hissed as she squeezed his hand. "I know how you feel about the church…how we _both_ feel. But you have to admit, it's pretty spooky we ended up _here_ of all places for our wedding. I'm just saying, what we did last night isn't a lie unless circumstances change and we _make_ it a lie."

McCoy's eyes narrowed as turned her words over in his mind. As her meaning became clear, so did McCoy's agitation.

"You're not serious," McCoy sputtered, as MacFadden started towards them with two middle aged women in tow.

"As serious as a heart attack," she whispered as she met his bewildered eyes with a look of resignation.

"Alright. We have the license. We have the witnesses. We have the bride and groom. It looks like we can begin," MacFadden said as he opened his prayer book. "Today I have to the honor of joining John James McCoy and Brooke Ann Malinowski in holy matrimony. Let us bow our heads in a prayer for this union."

As the priest went through the marriage ceremony, McCoy could have sworn he caught the man give him a wink as Malinowski repeated her vows and the priest turned to McCoy.

_Son of a bitch_, McCoy thought as he met the other man's triumphant gaze. _Still the same old game… get as many souls as you can…anyway thatyou can...Well this __is__ one soul you aren't going to claim you arrogant SOB__…_

"…in plenty and in want, in sickness and in health, until death do us part," he heard his bride reply.

"Repeat after me. I, John James take you Brooke Ann, to be my lawfully wedded wife."

McCoy shot the man a defiant glare and opened his mouth, pausing as his gaze fell on the woman in front of him.

McCoy looked passed the veil into the blue eyes that seemed to look at him with equal defiance…with the confidence that comes in knowing you're loved completely …that there's no way that love can be shaken or taken from you.

It was a look of total and complete trust from a woman who had given up so much more than he ever expected any one to give up, in order to be with him.

McCoy gave her the slightest of smiles as he cleared his throat.

"I, John James take you Brooke Ann, to be my lawfully wedded wife."

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"Oh my God, we really did it," the former Brooke Malinowski said as she stared down at the silver band on her ring finger.

"That we did my girl," McCoy replied before scooping her into his arms as he moved through the doorway.

"Jack, there's no point in a honeymoon if you throw your back out," she gasped as McCoy kicked the door closed and spin his bride around in his arms.

"Trust me Mrs. McCoy, it will take more than a bad back to spoil your first night as my wife," the grey haired DA replied before setting his bride down on the canopy bed.

"Have I told you how beautiful you are…,"he whispered before kissing her full on the lips.

Brooke let the bouquet fall out of her hands as she slipped her arms around his neck and returned her husband's kiss. As McCoy gazed down at his bride, Brooke couldn't help but grin at the look of total bliss on his face.

"You know, when you look at me like that, you look more like a sweet little boy than a hardened prosecutor that eats felons for breakfast."

"That's because when I'm with you the last thing on my mind are felons," he said quietly as he brought her hand to his lips.

Brooke's eyes widened, as she ran a finger over his shirt cuff and across his cufflink.

"I didn't know if Becky even gave these to you," she whispered as she stared down at the gold cufflinks that were engraved with the words 'forever yours'. The cufflinks that had been her wedding present to McCoy on their first trip to Canada.

McCoy nodded as he took her hand back and continued kissing her finger tips.

"I was putting them on when your brother called and we figured out what had happened," McCoy explained, a shiver running down his back ,as he recalled the moment he realized his fiancée had been kidnapped. "I still can't believe how close I came to losing you."

Brooke ran a gentle hand over his cheek before pulling him into an embrace.

"What matters is the here and now," she said with a shy smile, as she ran a finger lightly over his zipper. "I'm still waiting for _my_ wedding present."

"Well, in that case," he began as he rolled away from her to the other side of the bed and reached downward. "Maybe you better direct your fingers this way."

Brooke slipped off her jacket and reached over to help her husband bring the wrapped gift up and onto the bed. With a playful grin, she snatched the envelope off the front of the large square item and opened the card.

After a moment her grin was replaced with a knowing smile, as she reached over and gave McCoy a kiss on the cheek.

"I love you too, Jack."

"Come on. Open the damn thing," McCoy said with feigned gruffness. "It's been sitting in the studio for months."

"The studio?"

Brooke returned her attention to the gift and unceremoniously tore the gold paper forcefully across, exposing a mahogany framed painting of herself and McCoy. She studied the painting carefully, recognizing the scene as one from the first night they had made love together.

"Remember that picture _City Life Magazine _took of us as we were leaving the Bar Association gala," he asked as he met her inquisitive look. "I sent it to an artist up here that Becky knows and asked him use it to create this. After moving all those boxes of photo albums from you house to the loft, I figured you were one for visual records. I also thought it might be fitting to hang above our fireplace."

"It's perfect, Jack. Perfect and very thoughtful," she said with amazement. "The details are incredible, it looks like he painted it right there that night. You did this when? The first time?"

McCoy nodded as he moved to set the painting back beside the bed.

"The byproduct of a fleeting romance impulse … be warned…they don't come very often."

"Now that's more blarney than you've given me in a long time, counselor," Brooke said with a gleam in her eyes, as she kicked off her shoes and laid on top of him.

McCoy chuckled as he ran his hands over her shoulders and down her back, kissing her lips as his hand found the zipper at the back of her dress. As his parted her unzipped dress and began to explore her back on the way forward, he ran his hands over her under garments several times, his curiosity aroused.

Brooke opened her eyes and blushed at the unspoken question in his eyes. With a sigh she stood up and said one word before slipping the dress off her shoulders and letting it fall to the floor.

"Cohen."

McCoy gave her a low, deep, wolf whistle as he propped himself up by his elbow and gave her a deliberately long, appraising once over with his eyes.

"Wow…maybe I should send that artist another picture."

"Do it and die," his bride countered as she stood before him clad in leather busier that tied down the front and a matching pair of leather bikini panties. "You know they make this stuff for guys too, Jack."

"I'd rather keep this vision for myself anyway," he said as he slipped off his suite jacket and began loosening his tie. "I never was one for sharing, Mrs. McCoy."

"Nor was I counselor," she replied as she sat beside him and began to remove his tie, just as the phone in his jacket pocket began to ring.

"You remember to leave your phone on _today_," Brooke asked incredulously, as she reached for his jacket.

"I told Becky I'd call her when the ceremony was over. Come back here," McCoy said impatiently as she slipped out of his embrace. "Won't it go to voice mail?"

"It will but if it's Becky, you should talk to your daughter," Brooke said as she checked the display before handing McCoy the phone. "It's a number I don't recognize. Maybe the mayor, after yesterday's verdict?"

McCoy reluctantly took the phone and glanced at the display, giving his wife a shrug of his shoulders, before he opened the phone.

"McCoy?"

After setting their discarded clothing on the vanity stool, Brooke busied herself with opening the bottle of champagne on the coffee table, as she listened to her husband's end of the conversation. When she heard the name 'Melanie' she looked up from her task and quizzically at McCoy.

"…it completely slipped my mind…actually that's impossible, Melanie. I'm out of town and won't be back until very late Sunday…You have my word. Next time…"

"Hearing the name 'Melanie' in the same conversation as 'fundraiser' leads me to conclude you've been honored with an invitation from the great lady herself."

McCoy nodded resignedly, as he set the phone on the night table and took the champagne glass Brooke offered.

"I met her at one of Arthur's fundraisers for his last campaign for DA. Considering the alternatives, she's not a bad choice..."

"Save it Melanie Man. I'm a Mantago Woman," Brooke said drily.

"Mantago is soft on crime."

"Mantago is pro death penalty and God knows we could use the death penalty reinstated in New York State," she countered as she took a sip of her champagne. "And what did the recently divorced Congresswoman Carver want? An escort to this weekend's charity event at the Met?"

McCoy raised an eyebrow at the edge his wife's tone had taken and removed the glass from her hand before slipping her onto his lap.

"Do I detect a note of jealousy?"

"Do I have a reason to be jealous or did you just forget to tell the Congresswoman you were out of town because you're getting married this weekend, Jack?"

McCoy stared at his wife, his eyes wide in disbelief.

"Never,"he deadpanned. "With you in that outfit? _Beyond _never."

Brooke glanced down at the leather bustier. Before she could respond, McCoy kissed her and slowly lowered her onto the mattress.


End file.
